Category: Reminiscences

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My “unretirement”

Today was the Beer Mile. I would have to label my performance a qualified success. I had a few goals in mind when I committed to the race a couple of months ago and I met several.

My first objective was to lose some weight. When I decided to do this back in July I weighed 244.5 lbs – grossly overweight. I ambitiously set a goal of losing 30 lbs by race day. My battery died on my scale Friday so I don’t know exactly what my weight was today (the scale uses a 3 volt watch battery which isn’t exactly carried by your local mini mart). However, I was at 222 lbs Friday so I’m pretty pleased with the 22.5 lb loss even if I didn’t make my target weight (I’m going to keep working on getting it down further).

My next objective was to break 15 minutes. As a reminder, the rules of the race call for the runners to drink a 12 oz can of beer, run a quarter mile, then repeat three times. When I told my buddy Kevin (he’s the Tavern bartender, and former race winner (specifically in 2004), that invited me to participate) that that was what I wanted to do, he looked at me askance and said “that’s pretty aggressive, that would have beat my time last year”. I assured him that I thought it was doable.

However, I also acknowledged that one of my competitive advantages in the Phi Psi 500 was going to be negated by a specific Beer Mile rule. One thing that set me apart in the Phi Psi was the ability to throw up without having it affect my ability to run (one year I ever ralphed without breaking stride). In the Beer Mile, though, you are penalized if you throw up by having to run an extra lap (once you throw up though, you’re golden – you can throw up as many times as you would like after that – the max penalty is just that one lap). While I continued to publicly state that my objective was 15 minutes, I privately acknowledged to Kevin that I was worried about throwing up and would be happy with a 20 minute time if I had to do the extra lap.

One of the things that my experience in this race has taught me is that getting the beer down while you are breathing heavily is difficult (Ron will attest to this 😆 ). That factored into my strategy. Basically, I formulated a plan that called for me to walk about the last 100 yards of each lap so that I would get my breathing under control before I chugged the beer. I figured I could make up considerable time in the beer drinking part of the race by doing this.

Last night I upped the ante a little. I told two of Kevin’s roommates – one current – one ex, who was back in town for the race – that I was planning on beating them. They are both in their late 20s and had run previously with times in the 15-25 minute time frame. I’m not sure that they took the braggadocio of this 62 year old too seriously.

When I got to the race this afternoon I found out some more details of the race. There were about 40 people participating (maybe 30 were running individually but some others were just competing in a relay version). The entrants were broken up into 8 person heats. Kevin and I were in the second heat. Also in heat two were Kevin’s girlfriend Ellen (a runner who had actually beaten Kevin last year), Kevin’s brother Ryan, Kevin’s old roommate Rob who I had boasted that I would beat, and a couple of people that I didn’t know. We would all stand around this high table and would start the chug at the beginning together. At that point, I made another prediction. I told the group that I planned on being first away from the table. I also said that I would probably be last at the halfway point but that my strategy would mean that I would be catching people in the last half of the race.

The actual race started at about 4 PM. In the first group was the two time defending champion so Kevin paid particular attention to him since Kev was intent on winning it again. The champ got away cleanly and was off to the races. His first lap split put him under record time (at least the State College Beer Mile’s record time) but he clearly looked like he was struggling a little with the second beer. By the time he finished the second lap it was clear that he wasn’t going to set a record. He also really struggled with the third beer – he must have taken a good 45 seconds getting it down (Kevin was smiling the whole time). He finally finished it and pulled away from the table. Now the course is set up so that you run about 50 yards to a small track where you do about a 300 yard loop then run back to the start along the same 50 yard stretch that you started out on. As the defending champ started out on his third lap, a girl was approaching him just finishing her second. When they were about 6-8 feet apart he let lose with a projectile vomit that just missed her by inches (I when I say missed, I don’t mean missed her feet, she ducked and it went right over her head). Needless to say that got a HUGE roar from the crowd (it also delighted Kevin because it meant the guy had to do an extra lap and the race was wide open). The winner of that heat finished around 11 something – the former champ’s time was around 12 minutes. At that point, I told Kevin the race was there for his taking. I told him I expected him to lap me during my second and his third lap.

Our group was next. Now while there were a couple of guys running who were 40 or 50ish, I was clearly the oldest and I’m sure some people were looking at me askance. Right then Kevin pointed to me and announced to the crowd “Don’t underestimate him. He’s a former Phi Psi 500 champ”. One of the guys in our heat that I didn’t know turned to me then and said “Yeah but how long ago was that”. “OK. 20 years” I admitted “but experience IS a factor in this race”.

Then our heat started. I slammed the beer down and, true to my prediction, I was the first one away from the table. The race start takes place in this women’s backyard and she has a raised porch which the racers run parallel to for the first 30 feet or so. Most of the crowd spectates from the porch. As I took off, it gave me great pleasure to hear someone in the crowd say “Wow. The old guy is off first”.

I held the lead for about 30 yards before Kevin blew by me. One by one, everyone else in the group passed me too. Sticking to my strategy I walked in the last 100 yards of the lap. I was the last one to get to the table. Kevin had already taken off on his second lap and his brother might have also. This would have to be the point where I made my move. Pop!. Slam! (ok – semi-slam. I did stop to take a breath about 2/3 of the way through the can), and I’m off (I think in third place but things start getting a little fuzzy at this point).

In retrospect, I was perhaps a little too aggressive on the drinking end. I got all of about 15 yards away from the table and started to ralph. I held back the first spasm but realized that there was no way I was going to hold it back for the whole race so I just let it go. Upchuck city – although it was just a small one and wasn’t nearly as spectacular as others I would see that day. However, that meant I was doomed to another lap.

The second lap was a carbon copy of the first. One by one, even though I was third out, one by one, most, if not all, of the others in my group passed me. Also as I predicted, Kevin lapped me with about 50 yards to go in that lap. When I got to the table for my third beer, the others were all standing around drinking their beers… but none of them were downing them too rapidly. Once again, I drew upon my strength – Pop! Semi-Slam! (this time I stopped twice while chugging the beer though), and I’m off again. I even left Kevin at the table doing his fourth beer (he admitted later that he was quite impressed that I arrived after him but left before him). Of course, he repassed me about 10 seconds later.

Again the rest of the group passed me during the lap (to be honest I don’t know if they all did or not but certainly MOST did). As I arrived at the table there was the usual cast of characters there, however, they most definitely were struggling. Once again, I made my move, chugged the beer, and left others standing around nursing theirs. As I pulled away from the table I heard Kevin yell for me to go. I yelled back that I had to pace myself because I had to tack a penalty lap on. Right then, Kev said “Don’t worry. Rob has a half mile to go too.” That helped inspire me.

My strategy now became to just make sure I stayed ahead of Rob. It helped that decidedly fewer people passed me on this lap. Now that was partially because two or three had lapped me and had already finished but it was also true that I had left several of the others a good distance behind still drinking their last beers.

I was walking the last few yards of my mile when the crowd started to yell at me to run because someone was gaining on me. I started to run but yelled back in protest that I still had another penalty lap to run. In retrospect, I’m glad I did because I touched the table just before the guy who was trying to catch me. It was the guy who made the comment to me at the start about “how long ago was that?” It did give me a little satisfaction to know that my time for the mile was actually better than his even if he did beat me in the race because I had a penalty lap tacked on (it also meant that I was able to exactly pinpoint my mile time as 15:41 – not the 15 minutes I had hoped for but also not too bad).

For the last lap, I pretty much went into one of those survivor trots that you’ve no doubt seen many a runner do at the end of their race. I had a couple of hundred yards on Rob and I just had to basically hang on to beat him which I managed to do. A couple of other people, including Kevin’s girlfriend Ellen, did pass me on the last lap though. I think I came in 7th in our group. My final time for the mile and 1/4 was 19:13, so I did get under the 20 minute window that I was worried about with a five lap run.

Jason was in the next group and he started out with a vengance. He downed the first beer and was the first one out in his group. I looked like I might be in trouble. He wasn’t near as quick with the second beer though and by the time he got to the third, I knew he didn’t have a prayer. In fact he must have spent about five minutes at the table downing the third beer (much of the time hanging over the fence behind the table losing his lunch). He finished around 25 minutes.

Kevin did wind up winning the race although it did turn out to be a little difficult. As he was finishing, his brother was a few yards behind him. Kevin slowed up so that they could cross the line together (they finished in 9:48). However, the race commitee refused to recognize this gallantry, declaring that no ties were allowed and made them run a two lap two beer tie-breaking match race. Kevin beat his brother by about 5 seconds this time to win the title for the second time.

I had a lot of fun doing it and might continue to work out to give it a go again next year. I’m curious about how well I coud do if I were actually in any kind of decent shape.

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Larry the Legend…

It’s nice to know some people still remember.

I made my usual Friday night rounds last night (came off the wagon – my experiment with not drinking on weekends to expediate my weight loss wasn’t working all that well). Started off by watching the women’s volleyball team open their season up with a huge win over Texas (PSU is ranked #3 in the country and Texas #4 – PSU won 3 games to 1), then headed down to the Tavern.

I walked into the bar and David Gray (PSU soccer player and son of a couple of old friends, all of whom I’ve mentioned on the blog a couple of times) was sitting at the bar chatting with a couple in their 50s. David immediately calls me over and introduces me to the couple. As he does so he says to me “Tim was a Phi Psi here” and then tells the couple “Larry used to run in the Phi Psi”. The guy asked me when I ran and I told him almost every year after 1971. I then asked him when he was there and he said that he was the race chairman in 1975, at which point I said “that was about when I was in my heyday.”

Right then he asks “What was your name again?”. When I tell him, he goes “Omigod! You were a legend!” He then proceeds to tell his wife and David how I won it a couple of times, that I held a couple of records, and that I was in their “History of the Phi Psi” book. At one point David said “Well I had heard Pat (Daugherty) say that Larry was a Phi Psi legend, but I thought he was just joking.” That’s when when the guy goes “Oh no. He was a REAL legend”. Cracked me up. 😀

Needless to say we spent about an hour swapping Phi Psi stories (sorry Ron, didn’t get a chance to tell yours).

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Central Bucks HS – Class of ’65

Remember any of these guys Marilyn? Their class falls squarely between us.

There’s a judge, a council president, a police chief, a fire chief and a lawyer with a common thread. All five graduated from Central Bucks High School in 1965 and have become leaders in the community.

There’s Bill Cope, Doylestown Fire Co. president; Buckingham Police Chief Steven Daniels; Jeff Garton — the solicitor for Central Bucks and Centennial school districts, Doylestown Township, the Bucks County Water and Sewer Authority and Bucks County Community College; Bucks County President Judge David Heckler; and Doylestown council President John “Chip” Thome.

“It’s not every day that you have [this many leaders] from the same class,” said Cope.

Read the rest of the story.

I can barely remember Heckler and Thome but draw a blank on the others.

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Carnoustie memories

Anyone watching the British Open today. It brought back a bunch of memories from my trip to Scotland with Tod Jeffers in 1984 when we actually played Carnoustie.Carnoustie. Here’s a shot of us playing the 17th hole. I’m on the far right in the red sweater. Upon close inspection you will note that I am wearing knickers, which I wore for pretty much every round in Scotland (Tod remarked that my choice of apparel was like a guy from New York City wearing a rhinestone cowboy shirt in Dallas). Tod has the light pants on and the other guy and girl were a couple of newlyweds from the US who were on their honeymoon and were matched up with us (the guy played, the gal just walked along).

Carnoustie Finishing HolesHere’s a piece of a map of the Carnoustie golf course that shows the finishing holes at the course. I’ve placed a red X on the may where our friend Glen Durso stood when he took the photo above. The direction of the photo is toward the upper right hand corner of the map. In the photo you can see the wall of the Barry Burn running along the forefront. From the map you can see how the burn snakes around on both sides of 17. On the photo at the top you can just make out the burn behind us. If you look close you can see the walk bridge across the burn on the left side of the photo and you can also notice that bridge on the map above.

If you watched the open today, you saw Ernie Els hit his approach shot fat on 18 and it came up short of the burn (notice on the map how the burn runs right in front of 18). That reminded me a little of my shot on the finishing hole. When Tod and I played it, the pin placement on 18 was in about the same location as today, i.e at the very front of the green, about 10 feet onto the green and maybe 10 yards past the burn. When I hit my approach shot, I thought I had hit it perfect but it came up about 10 yards short – I don’t know if I misclubbed myself or the wind got it but the ball came down in the burn – but only momentarily.

Here’s a closeup photo of the Barry Burn. Notice how the bank on the left is made by bricks that form a kind of stair step up the side. Remember playing stoop ball as a kid (I’m talking to the second generation here, I’m not sure the third generation ever played anything as unorganized as stoop ball 🙂 )? You would throw a ball against the steps and it would fly backward. Well that’s exactly what happened to my ball when it landed in the burn. It didn’t hit the water but rather came down against the bricks. That caused it to ricochet back down the eighteenth fairway toward me coming to rest about 20 yards short of the burn (if I remember correctly I got safely on and two putted from there).

Barry Burn

The big hotel in the background of the above photo wasn’t there when Tod and I played the course. There was actually no clubhouse. There was a small shack that acted as a pro shop and a gravel parking lot where you could change into your spikes. Of course that meant we couldn’t roll of the course and have an immediate brew. So after we finished our round we headed back to St Andrews where we were staying.

Carnoustie and St Andrews map

The route back to our hotel took us through Dundee, a working class town on the River Tay. It was about a 30 mile drive and by the time we got to Dundee we were a little thirsty. I was driving and spotted a bar just off the road. I pulled over and Tod ran inside to get a six pack for the road (how times have changed? – you just wouldn’t think of doing that these days). A couple of minutes later Tod comes out of the bar laughing his head off.

While we were in Scotland we had been trying all sorts of different beers. Since we didn’t have a clue what most of the brews were we’d simply ask the bartenders in each of the establishments we’d hit, what their recommendation would be. So that’s exactly what Tod did when he went into the bar. The bartender responded (imagine a thick Scottish brogue “Ahh, we’ve got this great imported beer – RRRolling RRRock.” Tod could not keep a straight face and was still laughing as he came back out to the car (and no, he didn’t get the Rolling Rock).

I have bunches of other stories but I’ll save them for another day.

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Oakmont Memories

Watching the US Open being held at Oakmont Country Club just outside of Pittsburgh brought back a TON of memories the last few days and I’d like to share a few.

The 1978 PGA Championship was held at Oakmont while I was living in Pittsburgh. At the time my buddy Tod Jeffers was working at WMAJ a radio station in State College. Tod and I had quite a scam going. Tod was the sports director for the station and he would write to the PGA and USGA for media credentials to some of their golf tournaments and he would regularly get two (one press and one photographers – oddly enough, they never asked why a radio station needed a photographers pass). The 1978 tournament at Oakmont was one of the first where we pulled this little act (btw – they have wizened up and no longer give out press credentials to radio stations outside of a 50 mile radius of the tournament site).

The access that the credentials provided us was incredible. Not only could we enjoy the numerous benefits of the press tent but we also had access to the course. The way that most media covered the tournament was to sit in the media tent and watch the tournament on TV (more on that later). Then, following competition of their round, each player would come into the interview tent and handle and questions by the media. Rarely did they venture onto the course. Not Tod and I though. We would spend the day on the course walking along with the players.

Friday was the first day that we hit the course. I took a vacation day from work. Because hosting a major championship in town was such a major deal many of our office sales team took customers to the tournament so there were a lot of fellow IBMers at Oakmont. Early in Fridays round Tod and I decided to follow Jack Nicklaus. After Jack’s tee shot on two, Tod and I are strolling up the second fairway about twenty feet behind Jack and his caddy when I here this voice yell “Yo Fall”. I look over and there’s the IBM Branch Manager, Scotty Theissen, behind about five rows of spectators lined up along the fairway. Scotty was about 6’6″ so he stood out from the crowd and could get a good view from behind the others. As soon as I see him, Scotty says “you’d better write a good story” (the press credentials back then were a little different than today – today you hang a placard off of a belt loop, then you had a yellow armband that said PRESS – so Scotty was obviously commenting on the armband). My first thought was “I hope he isn’t upset that I took a day off to come to the tournament”. When I got to work the following Tuesday (more later on why I wasn’t in on Monday), he called me into his office and his comment was “How did you pull that off? I’m impressed.” I think his opinion of me jumped a couple of notches that weekend.

What Tod and I would do for the most part was tag along with the official group that walks along with each golfer. Normally, you’ll have 2-3 golfers, their caddies, a scorer, a standard bearer, a rules official, and maybe a few photographers. The group of us would walk just behind the golfers, and when we got to the green we’d find a spot near the exit walkway and kneel down so we wouldn’t block anyone’s view. We’d do the same thing on the tee when the golfers would tee off.

During one of the rounds, Tod and I were following Tom Watson. We walked up to the 15th tee and before we even got a chance to kneel down a guy standing directly behind me started mouthing off to his friend next to him “Goddamn press. I wait here for hours to see Watson tee off and they come stand right in front of me”. Without hesitation, and with a totally straight face I turned around to him and said “Hey buddy, you’re out here having fun. I’m out here trying to make a living. Cut me a break.” Jeffers had a hard time keeping a straight face.

I mentioned the press tent before. It seems like nothing today with the way that modern technology has advanced but I was really impressed with the IBM computer systems at Oakmont. Remember, there were no PCs then and computers ran in heavily air conditioned back rooms – also there was no such thing as wireless access. At Oakmont though, IBM had wired the entire course. A data entry person would sit just off of each green and they would enter players scores as they completed each hole. That would be immediately transferred back to the main computer that sat in a refrigerated trailer just outside of the press tent. In the press tent there were a series of terminals hooked into the mainframe so that the press could check on the stats at any point in time.

One of the afternoons, Tod and I were in the press tent when we heard a roar go up out on the golf course. A hole in one roar at a major tournament is different than any other. It was immediately obvious that someone had sunk one somewhere out on the course (actually from the direction it came, we were reasonable sure it was hole #8. I walked over to one of the terminals and typed in the request for current stats for #8. Sure enough within seconds, up popped a 1 next to Gil Morgan’s name (the eighth hole is the one that’s playing at around 270-280 for this tournament – Morgan dunked his tee shot on the fly for his one with the hole playing at 242). At the time that absolutely amazed me. Of course, with today’s technology, the exact same data, and much, much more, is instantly available to everyone around the world via the internet but in ’78 that was quite impressive.

By Sunday, Tod and I pretty well had the course mapped out. We knew exactly where to stand to get on camera – and we did. All the TV shots came from fixed cameras on the tees or behind the greens – there were no roving fairway cameras then. Since we could walk with the players, we would make sure that we stood behind the players so that they were always directly between us and the camera on the hole. That meant that we got on MANY times.  There was one memorable shot that I can remember quite well.   It came on #3 when Johnny Miller put his shot onto one of the mounds between the church pew bunkers.   Johnny stood on top of the mound to take his shot and Tod and I were directly behind him.   Because the camera shot was a telephoto from behind the green it looked like we were about two feet from him when the reality was we were a good 20-25 feet.

About an hour or so after the tournament was over I got a phone call from Mother and she went on to repeat the following conversation she had with Dad to me.

DAD (from the TV room watching golf): “Eileen – get in here!”

MOM: “What? Why?”

DAD: “I think I just saw your son on TV”.

MOM (now in the room with him): “Where?”

DAD: “Wait a second until this guy tees up. He’ll be standing right behind him.”

MOM (with the camera now on us): “Well. I don’t know. That sort of looks like him – I guess it could be… Wait a minute. That’s definitely he’s friend Tod next to him so it must be.”

My own mother doesn’t recognize me but recognizes Tod.

John Mahaffey won the tournament in a three-way playoff with Tom Watson and Jerry Pate shooting a 276. Mahaffey made up 7 strokes on Watson over the last 14 holes to take the title. Tod and I followed Watson around for the final nine but not didn’t hang around for the playoff.   In those days, tradition called for dropping the ropes behind the final group as they came up 18.   The fans who rushed in behind the players were quite careful to respect the players space but they had no such concern for us “media” types.  It was too much work fighting our way through the masses to get inside the ropes coming up 18 and we knew it would be the same way for the playoff so we bailed (in those days the playoffs weren’t set up just for TV either – players went right onto the first tee and played from there – the didn’t follow any of the weird playoff formats we have now).

So while the tournament ended on Sunday for most of the participants, it didn’t for us.  Another tradition for the majors is that on the Monday following the tournament, the host course is open to the media for free play.  THAT was an opportunity that Tod and I were not about to pass up.  Unfortunately, Mother Nature did not cooperate.  Come Monday and it was pouring rain.  We went out and tried to play anyway but it was just too much and we had to quit after nine.  Still it was an incredible experience, one that I would love to repeat sometime.

Tomorrow, I’m going to be able to relive part of it but it won’t quite be the same.  Randy Woolridge and I are headed to Oakmont to watch the Sunday round.  The bad news is that we don’t have press credentials.   The good news is that we have VIP privileges (Randy got the tickets from a big time banker friend in Pittsburgh) which includes access to the Pittsburgh Steeler corporate hospitality tent located just off of the eighteenth hole.  I’m looking forward to the experience and will report back on Monday.

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Where are they now?

Just in case they didn’t know it, I thought I’d update Ken and Gary on the whereabouts of a couple of old friends of theirs from our Chalfont days.

Conti's Cross Keys Inn

I’m sure most of us second generation Falls remember Conti’s Cross Keys Inn in Doylestown. I had my high school graduation dinner there with the family shortly after the graduation ceremony and shortly before I rear ended a car on 611 on my way to a party – which not surprisingly I never made.

Walt Conti

Walt Conti, was the proprietor of the Inn, and I got to know Walt later through my association with the Tavern Restaurant in State College. Walt was one of the original Tavern waiters hired while he was a student at Penn State in the late 40s early 50s. Walt maintained close contacts with the original Tavern owners and even helped train the first Tavern bartenders when State College finally allowed liquor sales in the late 60s (people used to have to drive 10 miles to Bellefonte to buy a drink or a bottle of booze).

Walt was quite successful in the restaurant business rising to head the prestigious National Restaurant Association. He was remained connected with Penn State serving as a long time Board of Trustees member and even chairing the Board for several years. Walt is now retired and living in South Carolina. However, Walt isn’t the reason that I’m making this post. His two sons, Joe and Mike, are.

Joe Conti

Joe Conti was good friends with Ken in high school. Ken can provide more details but my understanding was that at one time Joe and Ken had talked about going to Penn State, majoring in Hotel and Restaurant Administration, then opening a restaurant together. As it turns out, when the family made the move to Illinois following Ken’s senior year in high school, he decided to stay closer to home and enrolled in Illinois State instead.

Joe continued the family tradition and enrolled at Penn State. He also followed in his fathers footsteps by working at the Tavern Restaurant where I got to now him. Joe eventually took over management of the Cross Keys Inn from Walt. But like his Dad, Joe wasn’t content to just run the family business. Joe got involved in politics eventually getting elected as a State Senator from Bucks County. The demands of his new political career forced Joe to sell the two family restaurants – the Cross Keys Inn and the Pipersville Inn – in 1999.

In 2006, as is wont in politics, Joe got caught up in a political football (state legislators voted themselves a 2005 midnight pay raise that became to be known as a greedy money grab by the public – Joe made an ill fated joke about the pay raise that came back to haunt him and he fell out of favor with the Bucks County Republicans). Joe elected to retire from the Senate rather than fight what appeared to be a losing battle (even if he had won the fight against his fellow Bucks County Republicans he might have lost the war when many Republicans were swept out of office by the Democrats in the 2006 election).

Don’t worry about Joe though. He landed on his feet with a nice appointment as the head of the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board aka the LCB. Pennsylvania maintains an archaic system (maybe even more so than Utah) where all liquors sales are controlled by the state. You can’t buy a bottle of booze in this state anywhere other than one of the 600+ State Stores scattered around the state. So Joe is now effectively the manager of those 600+ stores that bring in a staggering $1.6 billion in sales. Nice gig Joe. Oh yes, also like his father, Joe served on Penn State’s Board of Trustees.

Mike Conti

That brings us to Mike Conti. Mike and Gary were friends in junior high school. Mike followed in his brother and fathers footsteps by also going to Penn State, working at the Tavern where I got to know him, and also becoming a friend of mine (I even went to Mike’s wedding in 1978).

After graduation, Mike went to work for his dad at the family inn back in Doylestown. However, like many of us, Mike couldn’t get Penn State out of his blood. In 1992 he returned to work for the University as part of the University’s Hospitality Services. Hospitality Services runs Penn State’s two on property hotels, the Nittany Lion Inn and the Penn Stater Conference Center.

Mike started out as the Food and Beverage Manager for the restaurant at the Nittany Lion Inn. Today he is the General Manager of the entire hotel. The Nittany Lion Inn has been an on campus fixture since it was built in 1929. It features 220+ rooms and is the place to stay to for alumni returning for campus visits. During it’s 75 year history, many notables, including numerous presidents, politicians such as Barry Goldwater and Martin Luther King, actors like Jack Nicholson and Dustin Hoffman, and entertainers as varied as Billy Joel and Brittany Spears, have been guests at the hotel.

The Nittany Lion Inn

My hat’s off to the Conti’s – one of Penn State’s most highly regarded families.

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Arts Festival Roadrace Photos

Found some old Arts Festival 10 Mile Roadrace photos taken in my running days.

Here’s Randy Woolridge with my ex-wife, Denise, and I before the start of the race in July of 1983. Notice the horns on my headband. Even then I liked to attract attention to myself.

Here are shots of Randy and I as we are finishing the race. If Randy seems to be more in stride and moving a little faster than me, it’s no optical illusion. Randy got pretty serious about his running and ran in a few marathons every year including about 10 times in Boston where I often accompanied him (TO Boston that is, once we got there, he did all the running).

Here’s Randy and Dennis Gildea replacing precious bodily fluids post race. Dennis was the writer for the Pennsylvania Mirror article that I linked to in a previous post (also one of the instigators of the Phi Psi 500 Hall of Fame hoax). He is now a professor of journalism at Springfield College in Springfield MA.

Here’s a post race shot of Randy Woolridge, Heather Carmichael, Katie O’Toole, and somebody whom I don’t remember.

First a little remeniscing about Heather. When I was in my running prime, I ran in several major road races around the country. For a few years in a row, Tod Jeffers and I would golf out way down to Atlanta for the Fourth of July and then run in the famed Peachtree Road Race, the largest road race in the country. 1979 happened to be one of the years that Tod and I ran the race. The day after the race, on our way out of town Tod and I picked up the Atlanta Constitution to read all the race stories. The talk of the race was the young unknown female runner from New Zealand who had won the women’s title.

This race attracted the top runners in the country. Famed marathoner Frank Shorter won it in 1977. Mary Decker was the women’s winner in 1978. Craig Virgin and Greta Waitz each won three Peachtree titles. But the 1979 female winner was an unknown recent high school graduate from New Zealand named Heather Carmichael. It turns out that Heather was a protegy of Arthur Lydiard, a famed New Zealand coach and trainer of legendary New Zealanders like world record miler Peter Snell. Here’s a story noting how Lydiard had prepped Heather and her teammate Karen Petley, who place third, for the Peachtree. When Heather won the race, nobody knew who she was. By the time the papers came out the next day, a couple of enterprising reporters had been able to piece together some info on her including the fact that she was headed to Penn State on a track scholarship. Tod and I immediately bemoaned the fact that we hadn’t known that the day before figuring we probably could have used that to our advantage somehow.

Scene shifts to four years later. By this time, Heather is a senior at Penn State and she’s renting a room in Randy’s house (which naturally now makes her good ole buddies with Tod and me). Unfortunately, injuries had derailed her Penn State career. She was a track All American as a freshman, taking 6th in the NCAA Indoor 5000M and 5th in the NCAA Outdoor 3000M races (she still holds the Penn State 3000m record). But as a sophomore stress injuries had taken a toll on her body and she was forced to drop from serious competition. That didn’t stop her from running in fun races from time to time including this Arts Festival race which she won handily.

The other women in the picture is Katie O’Toole. Katie is a long time friend of mine. I knew her when she was a student here at Penn State in the early 70s. She is one of many who has never left town. She is the host and writer for the award winning Penn State TV show “What’s in the News”. I’m pretty sure that I’ve mentioned Katie in the blog before, probably when I was talking about my long time friend former Penn State football player and Katie’s husband, Gary Gray. Or, if not then, then when I was talking about UncleLar “nephew” Penn State soccer player and Katie and Gary’s son David Gray (Note: Elliot and Chris, because they are Facebook friends of mine, can check out David and the rest of the Gray clan – Ali, PSU grad living in San Francisco; MoMo, student at Southern Cal; John, freshman at Penn State, and Claire, junior at State College High).

Hope you all enjoyed the old photos. Now if I could only drop forty lbs and get back to that weight. 🙁

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Arts Fest Roadrace

Traditionally, local road runners celebrate the Arts Festival with a Sunday road race. The race is now a 10K event coupled with a 5K fun run but in its early days was a much more demanding 10 miler. It’s been a long long time since I ran it but it used to be one of things that I always looked forward to. Once I got past the Phi Psi 500 in April, the next running event that I looked forward to was the Arts Festival 10 Miler.

The race was actually one of the first things that really bonded Tod Jeffers and I. I’ve related to many the story of how Tod and I met before the Phi Psi 500 (I’ll save documenting that story for another day) but I’m don’t think I’ve told too many in the family about our Arts Festival races.

The very first Arts Fest race was held in 1976 and was a large 10 mile loop that started and finished on campus. When I showed up at the start of the race in 77, Tod was the honorary celebrity starter for the event. When Tod saw me warming up before the start, he ran over and said “Are you actually running in this thing?” When I responded affirmatively, he said “Well if you can do it, I can too.” He then added that as soon as he started the race he was going to rush home, change his shoes and meet me out on the course.

Sure enough, about 15 minutes into the race, Tod pulls up behind me in his car, parks it and jumps out. In those days, Tod didn’t have a pair of real running shoes but he changed into a pair of “sneakers”. At this point we were two miles into the race and far enough out of town that he could just leave his car parked on the side of the road. That left eight miles to go – and if you aren’t a regular runner eight miles isn’t an easy thing to pull off.

I slowed down a little in order to not stress Tod too much and things went well – for a while. After about another 4-5 miles, Tod was in noticeable pain. When I asked if he was OK, he said he was having trouble with his legs rubbing together and chaffing. I told him that was typical and that I and many runners put vaseline on our legs to avoid that. That immediately started Tod thinking.

At the time, the race course ran through a little small town just outside of State College called Houserville. Many of the Houserville residents were outside on their front lawns supporting the runners as they ran by. Tod spotted this old couple sitting on their lawn chairs right outside their front doors and turns to me and says “wait here a second”. Tod ran up to the couple and politely asked if they had any vaseline available. The old man pulled himself out of his chair, disappeared into his house for a minute and reappeared with a BIG jar of KY Jelly. Tod dipped his hand into it, slapped it on his thighs and rejoined me (I had been jogging in little circles in front of the house waiting for him). He remarked to me “I took one look at the couple and just knew that they had a bunch of petroleum jelly around”.

The jelly worked wonders and Tod bounded forward with newfound energy. That newfound energy lasted about a mile or so and then he started dragging again. I will give him credit though. He did manage to gut it out and finish the race though but he was really hurting. He actually missed work the next morning for the first time in over 10 years when he was so sore that he couldn’t even get out of bed.

That experience did turn Tod into a more serious runner though. From then on he started training a little more seriously and he and I would run the Arts Festival 10 Miler every year.

That leads to another Arts Fest story. While Tod and I would run every year we weren’t very serious about it. We would always show up at the start of the race with a cooler of beer and hydrate with a beer before the start (Tod and I subscribed to the George Sheehan theory of beer being the perfect replenishment fluid for runners). After a couple of years of the 10 mile loop, the course was changed to two laps around a five mile loop. That worked perfectly for Tod and I because we could now stop at our beer cooler after 5 miles and down another beer before continuing.

In those days the race was dominated by a former Penn State runner, Greg Fredericks who was a two time Olympian. Greg would run away with the race every year and used to have to find new ways to motivate himself. One year, Tod and I, as would be our norm, completed the first five mile loop right around our standard 43-45 minutes. We stopped, had a quick beer, chatted with our girlfriends and took off for the second lap, leaving sometime around the 46-47 minute mark. By the time we finished it was sometime a little after the 90 minute mark.

When we asked who had won the race, we were told that Fredericks won in a runaway as usual but that he wasn’t happy with his finish. The first thing that he asked as he crossed the finish line was “Where’s Fall and Jeffers?” When told that we had just left, he responded “Damn, I wanted to lap them”. Greg’s fastest time for the 10 mile race was 47:37 but this year he was a couple of minutes off that pace.

Here is a report on the race the year that Greg Fredericks set his personal record time. The article is by another friend of mine Dennis Gildea who some in the family may remember from my wedding. He’s the guy who wrote the story “Mr Fall of Fame” and was one of the instigators of the Phi Psi 500 Hall of Fame hoax pulled on me (second generation Fall Family members will have to wait for another time for me to detail that incident). Dennis sums up how we all approached road running in those days when he ends his article with this quote

Quite a bit more can (and will) be said about this race, but it will not be in today’s sheet by your Mirrow track scribe. Your Mirrow scribe finished 102nd in 69:10 and then got on the business side of several Tuburg Golds to replace the precious bodily fluids that seeped out of him over the 10 miles.

My running days are far behind me now. Given the current condition of my knees I will be ecstatic if I ever reach a point where I can just walk eighteen holes of golf again. Nevertheless it was fun reminiscing about the old days.

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DYK "Edgar Allen Poe Went to West Point"?

First a little story.

When I was somewhere around 12 years old, Grace and Jack gave me a coffee table sized book for Christmas. I can’t for the life of me remember what the book was specifically about but somewhere in it there was an article or chapter about Edgar Allen Poe. For some strange reason, while I was reading the article I found it absolutely amazing that Poe was a graduate of the US Military Academy. I felt compelled to immediately share this new found piece of information with Mom and Dad so I trotted into the kitchen and interrupted whatever conversation they were having with “Wow – did you know that Edgar Allen Poe went to West Point?”.

Mom and Dad thought this was absolutely hilarious and cracked up laughing. From then on, whenever I would come up with some off the wall “did you know?” trivia fact (which it seems I was wont to do), their standard reply would be “No – and we didn’t know that Edgar Allen Poe went to West Point either.”

I share this story with you for a reason. When I saw your photo of Lex and his umbrella hat I had an “Edgar Allen Poe” moment.

Did you know that Lou Brock, the Hall of Fame basestealer for the St Louis Cardinals, was the inventor of the umbrella hat?