On Saturday I headed 'home' to
Carlisle, PA, where I was born. There, our family's dear friends the Berkheimers, were my host for the next two days and gave me a great tour. Our first stop was to see a tribute to
Molly Pitcher, who was given that name as she had pitchers of water ready and waiting for the soldiers in the Revolutionary War.
She received military honors.
A mural showing Molly, the bridge with three arches, the old Town Hall, Flat Rock, etc.
We went by the boarding school site used to assimilate Native American with the mainstream; the idea that this might actually work (or that the Native Americans would actually want to leave their homes and families to become assimilated) is astonishing.
Marjorie was kind enough to take me back to the Carlisle Hospital where I was born. The unfortunate thing was that the hospital was torn down a number of years ago and now there are residents where it once stood. I am standing where perhaps the maternity ward may have been?
Here's the new hospital.
Saturday afternoon we went to
Meadowbrooke Gourds on Potato Road (there used to be a big potato farm there).
Spray booth where they get all the gourds looking snazzy.
I forget what this contraption is called but its a big dust sucker for the shaving from the intricate design work.
Getting assembled just in time for the holidays.
These large ones are cleaned, dyed and used for wren houses.
On Sunday morning Ed took me along to the shooting range; I've not picked up a gun since was last with him, about 22 years ago. Ed is a true gunsman; he very much respects the art form and should be straight out of the old west (he just got back from hunting buffalo with his grandson). He was an excellent teacher and helped me earn my 5 Pig pin, given by the NRA for hitting the same pig target the same distance five times in a row. I sport it proudly.
My view from my station; the gun rests on these sand bags. The targets were a mini pig about 50 yards away, a bigger pig about 100 yards away, a gong about 125 yards away and finally a paper target about 150 yards away.
Here's the big metal pig with the paper targets in the distance.
With Little Pig and a .22 rifle.
With my excellent teacher Ed and Big Pig (very heavy).
With the Sunday morning crew who were all excellent teachers and did not make me feel like a 'girl'. Al, Ed and his son-in-law John. I am holding a paper target that I shot on my first try using a rifle used to shoot buffalo; very big, loud and had a kick-back. There were two triggers; the first one you click and the second front one you just barely touch. Seriously, I just lightly touched it and it went off. Good thing I have great aim, my shot hit just above John's on the black diamond.
A .22 for Little Pig, the next for Big Pig, Gong and Far-Away paper target.
Marge and Ed were such great, generous, interesting and informative hosts who made me so welcome and loved. They both shared many stories about my childhood and my mom. Ed made me this box filled with goodies; I cant wait to come back.
