THE GIFT…
Today, I spent most of the day in the Emergency Department of our regional hospital. Shortly after my arrival, I was greeted by my physician, Dr. Kraelig, the same physician who had saved my Life 18 months ago. As I rose to greet him, he fully embraced me, wrapping his strong arms around my body. After a few moments, he remarked how great I looked, and how thrilled he was to see me. He indicated that he was assigning his Physician’s Assistant to me for the day. Later, she arrived, and was as remarkable as is her “mentor.”
After all the results were established, she returned later this afternoon. Her remarks, after first indicating my health was GREAT, was to question me concerning my background. Obviously, Dr. K had prompted her. SO…I relayed the tale of my Life, and what led me into Carousel Carving. Upon the completion of my tale, she remarked (as have numerous health officials): “George, your Life is a true miracle.” She hugged me intensely, and we parted.
Upon reflection, I have been asked COUNTLESS times to relate the tale of what arose in my Past to lead me to Today.
SO…in answer to all those individuals, I now present the True Tale of a Life blessed with Miracles.
FLASH-WAY-BACK…
I was luckier than most children while growing-up…I had two completely separate worlds which I could call home!
First, there was the world of Pittsburgh’s “Gateway to the North Hills” community, Millvale, in which I was born and raised. This was the typical 1950’s Germanic mill-town, in which everybody was related to one another either through birth, or through marriage. Folks went shopping on Saturday mornings at all the local “mom & pop” stores, from butcher, to baker, and everything in-between…a true all-day affair, with heaps of conversations, laughter, and good “old-fashioned” camaraderie.
On Millvale’s Lincoln Ave., one could hop onto a streetcar and be transported through woods and fields to an adjacent community called West View.
Here it was that a legendary businessman named T.M. Harton chose to create in a valley setting, a remarkable magical realm which, to this day, conjures the fondest memories of our lost American Heritage. Of course, I am speaking of WEST VIEW AMUSEMENT PARK. Remembrances of riding the Racing Whippet, the Dips, Tumblebug, and Harton’s amazing Carousel are as vivid now, as they were breathtaking then.
The message of Harton’s success traveled far and wide. It was not long before the directors and owners of Exposition Park in the northern community of Conneaut Lake approached Harton with a possible consignment. It was their wish that Harton construct, and populate, the proposed Carousel for CONNEAUT LAKE PARK, as well as him having a hand in other proposed rides. Of course, we know that Harton accepted the offer.
The Carousel building and mechanism designed for CONNEAUT LAKE PARK mirrors its long-gone twin at WEST VIEW PARK. To populate CLP’s Carousel, Harton turned once again, as he had before, to the Germantown, PA Carousel Factory of G.A. Dentzel. Here he found the proud and regal animals which originally graced the CLP machine. AND… among them, he found the “twin” for one of the most elegant menagerie animals to ever travel round upon ANY Carousel…the Dentzel Lion.
As I said above, I was really fortunate as a child. In 1953, my folks decided to establish a second home; this one would be located near the shores of Pymatuning Lake in Crawford County. Traveling to this second home was not easy in those days…no I-79, few paved roads in the immediate area, no big-box stores. Shopping occurred in the local Market House…chock full of produce, baked-goods, artisans, meats…and, laughter and camaraderie! Heaven for sure! For entertainment, we hopped into my Dad’s turquoise and white 1953 Chevy, and coursed our way through woods, and across dirt roads to a magical place just a few miles away: CONNEAUT LAKE PARK!
Here I met, and loved, what seemed like a friend who had traveled all the way from down in West View just to be with me…to protect me, and around whose curly mane I could stretch my arms in a loving hug…my Lion.
MOVE FORWARD…
While living on the east coast in the late 1960’s into the mid 1970’s, I whiled-away most of my summer weekends along Jersey Shore’s Seaside Heights Boardwalk and Amusements. Here I fell in Love, once again.
There I discovered one of the elements from this Nation’s historic eras…a living example of National Heritage, one which brought together the talents of Artisans from several cultures. Here I found the still wonderful Carousel built in the late 19th Century by the Philadelphia Toboggan Company.
Late in the summer of 1972, August 11th to be exact, I rode that incredible machine. Straddling one of the outside row standers, I casually extended my right arm as the mechanism whirled, and captured one of the magical brass rings from the machine mounted on one of the support posts. This ring would entitle me to a free ride on the Carousel! But, rather than immediately “cashing-in” my prize, I casually shoved it into my pocket.
Later that evening, upon returning to my residence, I emptied my pockets…coins, a few dollar bills, matches, and then…among the trivia, I extracted my prize…my brass ring. “What the…,” Oh well…I cast the ring into a drawer of my dresser, and forgot about it. More about this later-on.
In the mid 1970’s, as noted, I relocated back to western Pa. In the move, I packaged all my, then possessions, for transport. Some of these boxed items, I was able to obtain in the process of my divorce in 1978. I stored these boxes in a rental facility until September of 1998. There they remained, unopened, intact as they were when initially boxed in 1975.
CLOSER STILL…
As my career progressed, I became transformed…perhaps “credit” may also be partially due to the negative elements to which I was submitted. Whatever the complex causality, my transformation took not only a physical form, but also had a mental/spiritual essence. I gradually came to believe in virtually NOTHING other than the advancement of the aspects of my career-based existence. My educational pursuits became more extensive, as did the litany of letters following my name.
I became a true “company man,” and lived 24/7/365 completely for the obligations of my profession. I rose through the ranks…and believed that nothing could stop my advancement.
Then, on August 11, 1991, the Journey took a turn upon a totally unexpected path.
Carolyn and I were two weeks away from the end of Summer Vacation and the return to our careers. We had spent the majority of that Summer on our vacation property (with, of course the exception of my graduate pursuits). At that time our permanent residence was a “high-class” townhouse located 24 miles north of Pittsburgh, and approximately 80 miles south of Pymatuning.
We suddenly found ourselves without any clean change of clothing. Rather than spending time visiting a Laundromat, I indicated that since it was necessary for me to return south for the purpose of retrieving our mail, I might as well stop at the townhouse and pickup clean clothing to last for the final two weeks.
Carolyn agreed. I jumped into our Toyota pickup, and headed south.
After retrieving our mail, and clothing, I stopped at a local construction site near our townhouse. The job foreman had indicated that I could have any of the natural rocks that his team dug-up in preparation for the site development. I loaded as many as possible into the bed of my pickup…my intention was to transport them to our woodsite property for the purpose of constructing a fire circle.
As I finished the loading and started to head north, I realized that I needed to purchase gasoline. Near the interstate connection heading northward was a large intersection . Across that intersection was the gasoline station at which I intended to stop. The intersection itself consisted of a crossroads of two major highways…each consisting of four lanes of traffic. I was in the left-hand lane of one of those highways, approximately six car lengths back from the intersection stoplight. Stopped in traffic, no one behind me, I awaited the light to turn green.
As I gazed momentarily into my rearview mirror, I noticed a car approaching behind me, rather fast…no, VERY FAST! AND..the car wasn’t stopping. I had nowhere to go…so, I braced myself for the impact. That was the last thing I remember until over two years later.
(NOTE: This section contains information which I was told nearly two years after my “accident.” Until that time, I had no knowledge of what had occurred.)
The car which drove into me was estimated of traveling at 47 mph upon impact. It drove the bed of my truck and its contents into me, crushing me in the process…but…I didn’t die.
A few weeks later, it was determined that my cognitive powers and powers of movement, etc., would never return. Since I required 24/7 support, it was suggested that I be placed into a permanent care facility…where I would remain for whatever length of Life remained for me. Carolyn refused, and, instead, insisted that I be discharged into her care.
My Mom remained with me during the day while Carolyn was working. My eyes were open; however, I had NO true cognitive functions whatsoever.
After approximately two months of this regime, it was determined that I could be safely transported daily to a physical rehab facility where I would spend most of the day. Eventually, Carolyn was told by my “army” of physicians and specialists to take me for little rides now and again…perhaps I might enjoy a change of scene…after all, not much more could be done to harm me.
She agreed that this was a good idea, and the little trips began…slowly at first.
Then, one weekend she decided to take a chance.
THE MIRACLE
Carolyn decided that weekend that we would have an “adventure.” She would drive us down to Sandusky, Ohio, a city located on the shore of Lake Erie…a place we had often visited and tremendously enjoyed. Her underlying intention was to drive the car onto one of the ferry boats which transported vehicles and patrons to several of the Lake Erie islands. Knowing how much boating had been part of our lives, she thought that I might enjoy the experience.
We never made it onto that ferry boat.
Driving through the streets near the docks in downtown Sandusky, Carolyn noticed a sign attached to one of the lampposts. The sign read MERRY-GO-ROUND MUSEUM,” and pointed to the left. Now, she KNEW how much I loved the old amusement parks, having grown-up near one of our Nation’s most celebrated old trolley parks (Pittsburgh’s WEST VIEW PARK), and another near my parents’ summer home (CONNEAUT LAKE PARK). So, she turned left, and proceeded into the museum’s parking lot.
Sandusky’s Merry-Go-Round Museum was, and is, housed in a dome-topped building built in the 1930’s as a U.S. post office. In 1987, it was transformed into its present purpose. Inside the museum is housed a full-sized, working Carousel, upon which are placed for a year at a time, individual Carousel animals which, although originally on REAL machines, now reside in private collections. (You see, Carousel animals were created for a purpose…when denied that purpose, they lose a sense of who they are…they become somewhat lonely, and without a sense of Life. Only upon being returned among their own on a working Carousel, do they renew their sense of individual dignity, worth, and purpose).
With the help of the staff from the museum, I was transported inside, and placed, sitting, on one of the park benches surrounding this magnificent machine. I am told that I watched intently for nearly half an hour as the Carousel whirled around in its magical course, and the music of the Wurlitzer band organ played melody upon melody.
After nearly 30 minutes , Carolyn tells me that I slowly turned to her as best I could and uttered my first words in nearly two years: “THIS is what I am supposed to do with my second chance.”
From the outset, it must be understood that, due to my undergraduate education in the field of pre-med, and my graduate work in the field of Psychology, that I am MORE than well aware of the process of radical cognitive-regeneration among certain persons who have suffered moderately severe head traumas. In this situation, it is not uncommon for these individuals to suddenly, and without prior notice, regain certain “amounts” of their previous mental capacities and memories. This process, however, was NOT the effect of my sudden utterance.
As I sat on that bench, it was as if curtains gradually parted and a tremendous knowledge came flooding into me. Without any prior experience in the field whatsoever, I suddenly knew EVERYTHING there was to know about the Art of Carousel carving…in the classic sense. I KNEW what wood to use, what tools to use and how to use them. I KNEW how to lay-up the wooden planks into the body sections necessary. I KNEW how to draw and transfer the patterns for the animals. I KNEW how to carve, how to finish, and EVERYTHING concerning the Art of Carousel Carving in the manner of the Artisans from 1865-1917.
I KNEW all the traditions, all the little special touches and loving care and bond between creator and creation. I WAS reborn…as a Carousel Carver…a HAND-carver. AND…I KNEW that these magical wooden creatures share a very special common purpose, and each breathes a true Life of its own.
I have NEVER pursued or developed any type of materialistic Art form. However, from that precise moment on that bench in Sandusky, Ohio, I WAS given a “second-chance,” a new Existence, and a new Purpose, which, as of this writing, continues to unfold in VERY unexpected pathways.
In another incredible and unexpected manner, my Life changed in a second way that same day. You see, with very little assistance, I was able to move (somewhat) under my own power. Although my memory did not return for many, many more months (and it NEVER has completely returned, I am told), my physical attributes began to return in dramatically rapid manner. Six months after that day in Sandusky, there remained only a few remnant effects of my accident in terms of my physicality. All fractures healed incredibly quickly; no internal effects could be ascertained. The cortex of my brain showed no lasting effects of the dramatic trauma inflicted upon it. I no longer needed any type of brace or cast. My motor functions were determined “normal.” I WAS told, however, that as I aged, I would become subject to increased effects of arthritis, and that my teeth (which had suffered various fractures) would someday all need replaced.
Six months after that day in Sandusky, I was traveling across the Nation, demonstrating the Art of Carousel carving in any venue which would have me…from amusement parks, to museums…from elementary classrooms, to university venues…art museums…firehalls…senior-living centers…community festivals…etc. AND, when asked (and I have been asked MANY thousands of times) how my Art came about, I would tell the tale.
I’ve been told that I have a Gift…and I do. I’ve been told MANY things over the years, and have been the humble recipient of innumerable hugs, well-wishes, and compliments.
But, understand this: it is I who am thankful…the incredible tales I have been told, by the innumerable individuals I have been honored to meet, have had a tremendous impact upon ME. And, that impact is the REAL gift…the Knowledge it brings with it…that Certainty…is the REAL Gift I have received.
EPIPHANY
My Life as a carver of Carousel animals literally began in 1993. I traveled extensively, as previously noted. Also previously noted, was the purchase and initial development of the property in rural northwestern Pennsylvania which I and Carolyn enjoyed beginning in 1982.
By early 1998, we decided that the Time had arrived for us to permanently relocate from the suburban area of Pittsburgh, in which we then resided, and build our “forever” home on our property near Pymatuning Lake.
We located a contractor who would construct a building from our rather “unique” plans, and in early July, 1998, ground was broken for our future home.
Then, by mid-September of that same year, the shell of the house was completed…electricity and plumbing were roughed-in enough to accommodate our habitation…AND, we began the task of “moving-in!”
Over the years, both I, and Carolyn, had accumulated an incredible amount of items which were stored, respectively, in her parents’ home, and in a storage facility which I had rented for many years. One of the first tasks was to move these items, boxes, etc., into our new home, and unpack them.
SO…there we sat in late September, surrounded by walls of boxes and effluvia. We, basically, celebrated Christmas in September. Carolyn would unpack a box…we would laugh, or tear-up…then, I would unpack one of mine.
After an hour or so of this process, I pulled towards me a somewhat moldy and misshaped cardboard box from my past…one which I had forgotten about decades ago. One to which I had no clue concerning its contents.
I slit the tape binding the lid of the box, and carefully began to unpack its contents.
Pages from the past: yearbooks, playbills, photos from my years on the East Coast. Then…there, among the mists from my past Life…there between the pages of what I had left years ago, was an object I had forgotten about…one which had captured ME one August afternoon in Seaside Heights…one which had not discarded ME…the GIFT…the Message to which I had not listened:
The BRASS RING which had chosen ME that day so long ago while I spun round on that magical machine, oblivious to so MANY Truths.
There it was, staring back at me, as I sat…tearfully beginning to understand.
Riding along on a carousel,
trying to catch up to you
Riding along on a carousel,
will I catch up to you?
Horses chasing
‘cause they’re racing
So they ain’t so far
On a carousel
On a carousel
THE HOLLIES
(On A Carousel)
