Her best friend's wedding

By: Amanda Gillooly

My friend Ean Gensler is getting married Saturday. I’m happy for him and can’t wait to see him tie the knot with someone I know he loves very much.

He moved to Chicago a few years back to take a fantastic job, and admittedly, we don’t talk as much as we used to.

But through the wonder of social networking sites such as Myspace.com, we are able to keep up with one another’s lives via the Internet.

The other day I checked a new blog post, and it was plain old depressing.

Instead of checking the “I won’t be able to make it” box on the reservation, the aunt of his fiancé wrote a long, painful letter about how she would not be in attendance at the “event” because she just didn’t believe in their romance.

I took offense immediately. Who the hell is Aunt Bertha to judge Ean?

He was one of my best friends in college, and although we went out nearly every evening, there was never any attraction between the two of us.

Ours just wasn’t that sort of relationship.

But even though we never became intimate, I can see where someone could fall head over heels for the guy.

In addition to being a hottie, he’s hilarious; I don’t think I was ever in Ean’s presence without, at some point, laughing so hard I thought I was really going to wet myself.

Maybe Aunt Bertha just doesn’t see Ean the way I do. But then, we went on many outings. And every outing was an adventure.

She didn’t go to Pittsburgh Steelers games with the dude.

His father, who had the season tickets we gladly mooched, asked us earnestly if we’d like to take his “hollowed-out hoagie” to sneak in a bottle of liquor.

Of course we said no, even though said hoagie had been a reliable accessory for the family for years. But the seed was planted. If Ean’s dad could sneak in the hard stuff with a silly sandwich, what could we come up with?

Actually, nothing too creative. We just stuck a bottle of Southern Comfort in Ean’s boot and walked in, taking secret swigs between plays, and telling ourselves that it wasn’t exactly smuggling as much as trying to stay warm.

We went to Punxsutawney our senior year and ended up teaching the bloated white guy playing Elvis how to give the traditional “rock on” hand gesture. If you need proof, we have a picture.

When Ean walks down the aisle with his fiancé, John Hreha, next Saturday, I’ll surely shed a tear – I’m a closet romantic. I cry at every wedding.

Yes, my friend Ean is gay. And I’m sorry if I didn’t let you in on that tidbit earlier. I just wanted you to see him as I do: a dear friend, not simply “my gay friend.”

I wouldn’t want anyone to make the same mistake as Aunt Bertha.




Observer-Reporter

A Celtic birthday

Bagpiper Dave Olson ushers my baby brother, Kelly Beveridge, to age 50.

The Rooster Song, last verse

Jim of Backroads Bluegrass charms the audience at a farmer's market in Washington, Pa.

A library shines in the ghetto

The blighted city of Aliquippa took its name from a mysterious Indian queen who likely never stepped foot in the area 20 miles northwest of Pittsburgh.

Pittsburgh and Lake Erie Railroad liked the name of the Seneca or Mingo tribal leader and used it to christen a train station in Woodland, Pa., before its name was changed to Aliquippa.

The real gem of this community was Elisabeth M. Horne who, on Nov. 9, 1926, gave Aliquippa the gift of an ornate library in the heart of town. Horne was a daughter of Benjamin Franklin Jones Sr., a founder of Jones and Laughin Steel Corp. that built a steel mill that stretched more than four miles and employed 11,000 men along the Ohio River.

The mill was most famous for a labor dispute in 1937 that ended when the U.S. Supreme Court, in a landmark decision, ordered the company to reinstate its steelworkers who were fired for attempting to organize a union. The ruling was considered to be the most important on behalf of labor in the United States.

The city in Beaver County, today, is among the bleakest of the old steel towns in America’s Rust Belt that began to crumble from the collapse of the industry in the 1980s. As a result, much of Aliquippa’s downtown storefront buildings and neighborhoods has fallen in disrepair.

However, the B. F. Jones Memorial Library has undergone extensive restorations to remove decades of black soot that covered its decorative interior walls and ceilings.

A larger-than-life bronze statue of Jones, created by New York artist Robert Aiken, is perched atop a Vermont marble base inside the front door. The lobby reveals itself to reading rooms, one of which has a carved entry to the former children’s reading room. That room is graced with a fantastic stained-glass window depicting 10 color portraits of Mother Goose rhymes.

This library at 663 Franklin Ave. survives, thanks to hearty volunteers who cater to underprivileged children, unlike those of immigrant steelworkers who this library was designed to serve.

Used undies worth keeping

By Amanda Gillooly

As a high school student, I went through a phase where I wanted to buy all my clothing at thrift stores.

Almost.

No matter the thrift store, there was always a section of used undergarments, and I always thought to myself, “Is there anyone out there who REALLY thinks buying a pair of yellowed briefs is a good life choice?”

Apparently, I’m just not hip enough because some people with money want them. The Associated Press reported Monday that former boyfriend and baby-daddy of the late Anna Nicole Smith, Larry Birkhead, bought up $3,000 worth of her old undies.

OK. Maybe that’s a bit of an understatement. It’s not like he paid $3K for those old yellow briefs. These unmentionables were worn by Smith during a Playboy shoot for which she was propelled to fame.

So, is he just a weirdo who collects the bedroom clothes to smell in the privacy of his own home, or something? Actually, the reason why he’s a weirdo is because he bought them to ensure that the pair’s 1-year-old daughter, Dannielynn, would have a piece of her mother’s legacy.

Indeed, Birkhead told the AP: “I have a lot of history I have to put together that she doesn’t really know about. Playboy was such a big part of her life.”

I don’t know – but if all I had to remember my late mother by were a pink bustier and a white negligee from a Playboy shoot, I’d wonder what kind of legacy she left in the first place.

But after a moment’s thought and a brief Internet search, it appeared that Birkhead’s idea of buying worn gutchies as collectors’ items can be downright noble.

At an estate sale at Pam Anderson’s house early last month, for example, the former “Baywatch” star sold a chain mail bra amd satin negligees and stripper heals along with other household items to hungry buyers. The items sold, but at least she donated the cash to her favorite charity, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.

I just feel bad for whoever bought the underwear. Do you think Hepatitis C can live on chain mail? Let’s hope not, for the buyer’s sake.

Smog show on horizon

DONORA – Devra Lee Davis never tires of talking about the Donora smog tragedy of 1948.

She used the story about that foggy weekend that trapped mill pollution in the deep valley for three days, killing 20 people, to introduce her critically acclaimed 2002 book, "When Smoke Ran Like Water."

The Donora native also has done countless interviews on the subject and was back in her hometown June 18 to tape a documentary about it for the Weather Channel.

"The story is more that they recognize the issue," Davis said before going on camera at a stage set in Donora Public Library to talk once more about the nation's deadliest air pollution disaster.

The Weather Channel is producing the show for its series, "When Weather Changed the World," because a stagnant weather pattern contributed to the smog that led to the nation's first clean-air law. It is expected to air in October during the 60th anniversary of the tragedy.

Many people have placed the blame for the smog, which also sent thousands of people to local hospitals, on the Donora zinc works.

Although the plant burned coal and mixed it with calcium chloride to produce zinc, the company also used it to produce alloys that were never made public. On the zinc end, the plant smokestacks released plumes of toxic fluoride gas that was strong enough to etch glass and damage the teeth of children and cow's hooves, Davis said.

"They did blame it on the weather, a perfect storm," she said. "We still don't know what went wrong. We never will."

The zinc mill closed in 1957, followed by the steel mill in the 1960s, giving Donora the distinction of having the first major steel mill to close in the United States.

The borough has been giving its blighted downtown a makeover for the smog commemoration. With the help of California University of Pennsylvania, giant reproductions of news photos from the event have been hung in abandoned downtown storefront windows. The commemoration committee also is developing a smog museum.

"This is a chance for Donora to step out of the gloom, the supposed stain that this had on the community, and commemorate those who passed," borough Councilman Don Pavelko said Wednesday.

He said the smog victims need to be credited for creating an awareness in America about the need for clean air.

"We're hoping this is the springboard to bring some pride back to the community."
(Caption: Devra Lee Davis, shown in Donora, is a professor in the department of epidemiology at the University of Pittsburgh)
Observer-Reporter