Twos

 

Originally there was supposed to be three of us going on this trip but a queasy stomach dropped the total to two. Heading to the farm market in Ligonier, the day looked great. A nice orange sunrise greeted me as I swung my feet out of bed and as I left the house, the sky was blue.

    With two cups of freshly brewed coffee in the cars cup holders, Ann Marie and I turned onto rt. 22 and proceeded towards the east, into the sun. Coming into the hills of the Laurel Highlands, the sky turned a bit hazy. What normally was a great view of the mountains ahead was muted; the hills seen weren’t as numerous as usual. It really didn’t matter, the windows were down and the breeze flowing through the car smelled good and fresh.

    We turned south onto rt.982 and stopped for, of all things, a geocache. (didn’t see that coming, did you?) A nice easy find, hidden hanging behind a sign. The next one was about a mile or two further down the road. If found, it would be my 2222^nd find! It wasn’t to be. We looked all over the place without any luck. I wasn’t worried, I had a few more programmed into the GPS.

    We stopped next on rt. 30, at a pull off on the section where the road is divided by the Loyalhanna Creek. Sitting behind a large rock was my 2nd find of the day, my 2222^nd find since May of 2007. The only thing special about it was the number, not much else. (Of course, they are ALL exciting, some more than others!)

    Next stop was the Farmers Market. Held every Saturday in the summer it draws thousands of people into Ligonier. They have a huge police department to handle all the cars and the crowds. They also need police to direct traffic a few miles away at Idlewild Park.

    Coming into the entrance of the market area, we found another cache. We pulled it out of its hiding spot and signed the log and replaced it while we were 7 or 8 feet away from a policeman. None of the crowd noticed what we were doing…

    We went up and down the aisles looking at all the goods that were being offered for sale. We got a couple things to nibble on as we looked but other than a bunch of radishes and a hunk of cheese, we didn’t make any purchases. (I passed on the $5.50 donuts!) We saw some friends while we were there. You never know who you’ll see when you’re out exploring! After we left I got to pet some beautiful dogs in the parking lot and then we turned the car towards the north.

    We re-visited some coke ovens that were just a few miles off of our route. These ovens aren’t the “standard” beehive shaped coke ovens so often seen. These were loaf shaped, a vault style with openings on either side. There are easily a hundred or more ovens on the side of this road, the majority were hidden by the weeds. You get a much better view in the wintertime. 

    These ovens were used to make coke out of coal; coke is a much cleaner burning fuel, it is also an important part of making iron. The coal would be put in ovens and after being ignited, the doors were closed and it was left for a couple days. What remained in the chamber was coke. Coke ovens are scattered all over the Pennsylvania hills, often in long lines, one after another.  If you find one, chances are there will be more near-by! When they were being used, the areas around them were noisy, hot and smoky, nothing like the areas where they stand now. Today, they sit quietly in the woods with birds chirping and plants growing on top of them, looking like ruins of a past civilization. Quite a difference! Hardly any of them retain their doors. I had heard that taxes were charged on usable ovens and by removing the doors, they became un-taxable. 

    After taking a few pictures, we followed some dirt roads which crossed hilltops with views that seemed to go on forever. We eventually ended up in Seward and then finally back on rt.22.

    Returning back home, we were back before 2 with time left for chores. Another fun trip out into the Pennsylvania countryside, it was a great way to start the day!

Hidden and Forgotten

 It sits along a curve on a fairly well traveled road. The yard is overgrown; the trees hide it from most of the people passing by. I happened to be looking in the right direction as I passed it, otherwise it would’ve remained unnoticed by me also.

    Three stories high if you count the attic. A window sits open below its peak. Dirty brown window shades and curtains cover the other windows visible as you quickly pass by.  Along the side that’s open, a fence lays broken, no doubt held up by the weeds and bushes. Vines are working their way up the side of the house. It has a definite look of abandonment.

    The house isn’t sitting out in the countryside; there are neighbors near-by. The trees and shrubs have separated it from the rest of the neighborhood. During the month of October, I’m sure there are stories told about ghosts and spirits. Even on sunny days, the house sits in a pool of shadows.

    Walking in on what used to be the driveway, a pair of ruts worn into the dirt, trash can be seen lying around. Whether it is leftovers from the previous occupants or things dragged out by scavengers I couldn’t say. A back door stood ajar, the wood on the porch was rotting, I wasn’t going inside. Boards covered some of the windows, dirt and dust covered everything. Some of the furniture is sitting in what used to be their yard. Off to the side, an old swing set sits rusting away, the laughter and the swings long gone.

    The garden is growing wild; flowers and shrubs mixed with the weeds grow uncut and untamed. Some are higher than the porch roof.

    I looked at the house and couldn't help wondering. Who was it that used to live here? How long did they and their family inhabit the house? Were they the first people to occupy it or just the last? Was it financial problems, health or death that caused its abandonment? How long has it been empty? Did they just leave or did they take their things with them? I can only guess what might be inside. I will never know these things but yet I'll always wonder.

    The house has a feeling of sadness around it, the sunshine no longer warms its rooms. It is forgotten; every year it slips further from peoples thoughts. I can only hope that there is someone, somewhere who still has some fond memories of time spent here. Before long, it may no longer be here and then, there won't be anything to remember it by.

What a Way to Start the Weekend!

 The day started a little after three as the phone beside my bed rang. I was expecting the alarm to go off so I woke up quickly. Bill, a friend, had just arrived at the top of the hill where we were going to watch the big implosion scheduled for this morning. He was the first person to arrive.

    I got up, ate some breakfast and drank some coffee and then loaded the car. Things had been pre-packed so it was only a matter of a couple trips. A quick stop at an all night gas station for two coffees and a couple breakfast sandwiches and then it was off to Ann Maries.

    Nearing the site, the morning sun, not yet over the horizon, was tinting contrails with a pink color. They looked like fireworks. We had watched the Chinese Space Station Tiangong pass over AMB’s house before we left, it was turning into another great day!

    Arriving a little more than two hours before the scheduled detonation, we worked our way up the steep path of Barking Slopes. Dirt bikes, rain runoff and many feet had turned the path into a deep ditch, running straight up the hill. The light was bright enough for us to pick our footing. It was the steepness, and the weight of the cameras and tripod I was carrying that caused me to stop occasionally to catch my breath.

    Four or five people were already at the peak of the hill. Below us, across the Allegheny River, sat the former Springdale Power Plant. The sun was up, a bright orange ball hovering over the distant hilltops. A couple of boats were already out patrolling the river and police and firemen were positioned around the plant. Occasionally a police car or a fire truck would drive by. From on top of the hill, they looked tiny and the world was mostly silent.

    Slowly, more people arrived. We had staked a claim on the side, away from the power lines coming up from below. Most people chose height over the clear view, our area stayed fairly free of people until just before the detonation time. Someone drove a Jeep up the hill and we joked about how it would make a good commercial. Before the “big bang” four other cars and trucks joined it, along with an ATV, a dirt bike and a golf cart.

    An hour before detonation, it was getting crowded. People just kept coming; soon the hill top was lined with people and cameras. A few people climbed onto the electric tower structures to see over the crowd. One man brought a hammock that he hung on one of the towers. Parents brought their children. More people moved over towards our side; space was becoming a premium! For the most part, everyone was polite and friendly; we were all here to see the same thing. 

    Stepping down the hill a bit, I was able to count over 60 people from where I was standing. I would guess there was well over 100 people with us on the edge of the hill.

    Right around 8, right on time, we heard a long siren blast and then a short time later, a series of siren blasts and then a small muted sound of an explosion. The shorter and newer chimney started to lean towards the right. Shutters were clicking and videos were being recorded. From the hill top it appeared to fall right behind the taller chimney. It looked like slow motion as it collapsed, pieces of the metal cap flying in the air along with it.

    The second stack started to lean, falling away from us. It appeared to be shrinking as it fell and while it seemed to be slowly falling, it probably only took seconds before it hit the ground. A huge cloud of brown dust rose up into the air.

    Everyone on the hilltop was silent for a moment and then the cheering and clapping started. We all watched in awe as the dust cloud started to rise and then slowly move down river.

    I find it fascinating to see where places used to be but to see something disappear while I watch, that is great! “Here today, gone tomorrow!”  Gone but the memories. Everyone on that hillside and in places around the area gathered some fantastic memories this morning!

    People started the hike back down to their cars and the crowd thinned out. While making our way back down the slope we watched the cloud of dust move down the river valley. Later, we drove through the dust as we entered Oakmont.

    There were only a few problems with the implosion, some windows were broken and a couple telephone poles were knocked down. The power was disrupted for awhile.

    I went home and developed my film. I spent about a half hour hoping that I had put the film in the camera the correct way, hoping that I was using the correct times and chemicals in the proper order. This is one of the things which accompany using film as compared to digital cameras and one of the things I enjoy. In the end, the negatives came out fine.

     We had watched a space station cross the sky, saw a beautiful collection of clouds and then shared with a hundred other spectators the rare experience of watching not one, but two smokestacks come crumbling to the ground. WOW, what more can I say? The day was off to a spectacular start!

What a way to start the weekend!

Maps on (In) the Mind

 Whenever there is the possibility of a trip approaching, I tend to go to my paper resources, my maps. Rather than allowing a computer to generate a route for me, I prefer to look over the area between the two basic points, the beginning and end, and then decide on a route myself. These directions are often determined by roads that I’ve never seen or driven on.

    What-ever prerequisites I have, a map is almost always employed. Many times it won’t even be a physical map but one of the many stored in my memory.

    Thinking about going from one known spot to another will bring to mind landmarks seen on previous trips. Things which have lodged in my memory, perhaps by their uniqueness, their photographic potential, their history or even geocaches which might be hidden near-by.

    Names of people and towns often slip through my grey matter like water between pebbles, here one minute and gone the next. I envy people with good memories. Thankfully, the maps in my mind have remained…so far.

    I picture maps as so much more than just paper directions. I see them in many of the things we do daily.

    The recipe for my Scalloped Potatoes is a map which takes me from the shelves in my pantry to the kitchen and finally to my dining room table. The readings at Church are maps that hopefully take me safely through the journey of my life, helping me avoid the wrong turns which are so easily taken. The discussions I have with my doctors and my banker are directions given, maps showing me the correct way to go. The plans we make are maps to our futures.

    I can’t help but think that the books I read are also maps. Time after time, they lead me to other books, places and activities. Many of the books I’ve read were originally mentioned in other books I had read.

    In the same case, I feel as if much of my reading is connected. I can’t count the number of times I read something; a place, an activity or a person and then read about it or them in another book I pick up. In some way or another, all the books I read have a connection, there is an invisible map that I occasionally see, but yet I am always looking for.

    When I mark down my chores at the beginning of the day which need completed, I am making a map for the day. My list of planned observations when I go out with my telescope is an atlas for my evening. My grocery list is a map; it is organized by how I will walk through the store. It becomes a set plan with minor deviations. I can picture where I’ll be walking in the store as I write down what I need. The list tends to shorten my visits; I wander less and minimize time searching, not to mention doing less “in the moment” buying.

    The objects we see in daily life can be maps also, directing us to spots in our memory banks. Looking at the Peonies in the garden in my front yard takes me on a short trip to the memories of my father who planted them 50 or 60 years ago. The Trillium plant in the back yard does the same thing. I open up my old Joy of Cooking cookbook and the stains, spots and wrinkled pages take me right to my mother, standing in front of the stove, her apron protecting her clothes, cooking meals for us. This is a book I’ll never get rid of, a map book to my feelings!

    The pictures I take are maps also. When viewed in order, they show the progress of our trips, reproducing the routes we took. Pictures, like books, can mean different things to different people; I can only hope that my pictures will take them to good places. Some pictures are made to make a point, they are maps made to bring people to a certain realization. We (the photographers) keep our fingers crossed that they will arrive at the place we wanted to take them!

    Maps, like pictures can pull us into the past, showing us what once was, helping us to remember the ways things used to be. Old maps can be helpful in finding places where things have disappeared. I use maps to find the ruins of old buildings, ones that were torn down decades ago. Those old pieces of paper, worn at the creases, direct me to where mills once stood, producing iron for a growing nation, or to where canals used to be, ferrying passengers and produce across the states. With their help I can envision what used to stand in the empty fields I find.

    As I was thinking about writing this, I wrote down some notes. Thinking about it, they are a map also. I made them to help me write this. Hopefully that map will get me to my final destination! (the next and last paragraph)

    Our world is filled with maps that we see daily but fail to realize that they are there, helping us in our daily lives. Modern technology has provided us all with maps, as close as our phones. Even if they are spoken, (“Turn left at the next intersection in 100 yards…”) they are still maps.

 Maps, I can’t help but see them everywhere!

Old Books and Iron Furnaces

My grandson Nico and his mother, Chelsey had both recently celebrated their birthdays. This weekend we were going to party! Toss Mothers Day on top and it had all the makings of a good time.  Ann Marie and I were heading out towards Philly for the get-together.

    We left a few days early, taking our time as we crossed the state from Pittsburgh. There were a few spots on our “to-visit” list and the extra day or so gave us time to wind our way across the state, going a little bit north, a bit south, a lot westward and even a bit towards the east. (Yeah, we did backtrack a few times…) This was a great time to explore some of the roads we haven’t traveled before!

    On the first day, we drove through the home of that famous groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil. We ate our breakfast at Punxy Phil’s and then cruised the streets of the town.

    We found a bookstore, B's Books Etc., but sadly, we were a few hours early, it hadn’t opened yet. This is one of the problems with my preferred early starts.

    A bit further north, we found the remains of the Karthaus Furnace. Built in 1817, the company folded after about a year. There were too many problems with transportation and customers. A couple decades later, the furnace was adapted to use coke but sadly this venture failed also. It collapsed and was later rebuilt in the late 1960’s. Within three years, it collapsed again. There is a large crack going from ground to the top on one of the sides still standing, it has definitely seen better days.

    Next on our list was Curtin Village, where the Eagle Furnace stands. The furnace was built in 1847, finally closing down in 1921. The village has a number of original buildings still standing and was added to The National Register of Historic Places in 1971. Looking around the grounds gave us an idea of what it was like when the furnace was in blast!

    The day was rapidly slipping away on us so we headed towards State College where we saw the remains of the Centre Furnace. This stack sits right outside of town. It was built in 1792!

    We then went into the town to visit Webster’s Bookstore and Café. Going down a set of steps from the sidewalk, we entered another world. Books were everywhere with lots of customers sitting and studying, eating vegetarian meals and reading. They have a great selection of books with good prices; most of their selections are used. Ann Marie came out with an arm load. 

    From there we headed (on the back roads of course) to Lewistown where we would be spending the night. Before we checked in, we stopped at The Crooked Shelf, an independent bookstore located about a block away from the town square. We BS’d with the owner for a while in this neat and orderly shop. We both picked up a couple more books before we left. 

    In the morning, while AMB slept, I went out to look for trains. Lewistown has a nice historic Amtrak Station and there is an active rail yard beside it, complete with a turn table! I was lucky enough to see a couple freight trains zip past while I was there.

    Breakfast in another diner and then we headed towards Boiling Springs. Passing through the town of Carlisle, we stopped to visit the Whistle Stop Bookshop but even though we were there after the posted opening time, it was closed. I was looking forward to looking through their railroad books; I’m only guessing they might have some. Hopefully we will get a chance the next time we go through town.

    The Boiling Springs Furnace or the Carlisle Iron Works was built around 1860-1862. They produced iron for about 100 years. An interesting fact about the furnace is that it is located on the Appalachian Trail. Hikers will notice the markers in the picture. Backpackers pass right by the furnace as they enter the town of Boiling Springs. So, not only did we visit another historic site, we “hiked” a small bit of the AT!

    Next on our list was a furnace near the town of York. The Codorus Furnace is rather unique since it was built with a round stack rather than the conventional square, pyramidal shaped furnaces.

    Built in 1765, it helped supply the Continental Army with cannons and cannon balls. It went out of blast in 1850 and has been restored three times since then. The brick structure was placed on top of the stack after it was built to help protect the workers who fueled the fire from the top. It also provided heated air to increase production.

    From here, our interests went back to books. In the town of Enola, across the street from the Norfolk and Southern rail yard was Cupboard Maker Books. The building is hard to miss; the sides are painted like books, stacked up side by side. It is a huge store filled mostly with used books. I headed in one direction and Ann Marie in another. I went to the Pennsylvania collection and then over into Photography and then where-ever my eyes led me. As we wandered through the store, various cats came by to let us pet them. I’ve seen cats in bookstores but so far, only one shop that had a dog, there should be more of those!

    From the bookstore, we headed towards the far end of the state. The party day was almost here!

    On Saturday morning, before the party, we stopped at the North Wales Library to find a geocache hidden inside it. It is a really nice library with a large collection of books for sale. While I looked for the various clues to locate the cache, AMB scanned the sale shelves. Then SHE found the cache. We both took home a book or two from here also!

    Sunday afternoon and we were both ready to get back to our homes. We didn’t make many stops other than shortly after we left. We made our regular stop at Dietrich’s Meats for some Pennsylvania Dutch style meats, and then stopped at the Lime Kiln that is located a few miles down the road.

    I know hardly anything about this other than it is a Lime Kiln, not an iron furnace. We happened across it as we were heading home on another trip. It was all overgrown and covered with trees and ivy. Someone had recently cleaned it up. Since it was Sunday, no one was at the near-by business, so we couldn’t ask any questions.

    From there, we stuck to our route. We passed with-in a couple miles of a few more furnaces but we no longer were in the mood to sightsee, we just wanted to get home.

    Playing with and holding my grandsons was the highlight of the trip, along with the party with family and friends. We left with heavy hearts but are anxiously looking forward to their trip to Pittsburgh in the near future, when we will be able to see them and their parents again. We squeezed a lot into this trip, we didn’t see all the furnaces on our list and some of the bookshops were closed, but they will just be put onto the list for the next trip!

     I have to say, my bed felt REALLY good when I got home!

From Out of the Fog Rose the Sun

 The fog was intermittent, at times none existent and at other times, the road could barley be seen. The sun was up but dimmed by the thick clouds hanging in the valleys. The weather prognosticators had called for a clear, sunny day, the fog was just some icing on the cake!

    Fog is such an interesting phenomenon. We are aware of what is there, yet it is hidden from our view. Our imagination comes into play, envisioning what we might be missing. Fog is a mystery, an unanswered question for our minds.

    Driving along the river, structures were dim outlines against a blank background. Railroad tracks faded away with no beginning or end, just a short piece was visible, the rest could only be imagined.

    Ann Marie, Jim and I were heading towards the sun, off to the east in search of … anything. Our initial destination was the small town of Bolivar, in Westmoreland County. Long ago there were a batch of brick plants here, they have since gone out of business and been torn down, but there are always remnants left behind. Perhaps if we were lucky, we might find some of them.

    Topping a hill, the Laurel Highlands could be seen in the distance. Their hillsides were covered with patches of fog, the details all blurred by the distance. High smokestacks of a power plant poked through the fog surrounding them, making them appear to be floating in the clouds. Bright sunshine topped trees near-by, brilliant fresh green leaves on the tops while the trunks still sat in the dim light of the morning dusk. Beautiful! Nature is an artist with no rival!

    We drove on narrow roads with trees forming a canopy over our heads. The roads twisted and turned as they followed the lay of the land. Straight roads are rare in Pennsylvania unless they have been bulldozed, leveled, widened and paved to create a speedy way between two points. They are quick but sadly, so unattractive. The old back roads follow the streams and hills, letting the landscape determine their route.

    The woods were filled with new May Apples, their flowers yet to bloom. Dog woods grew in places, adding bright splotches of color to the woods as we drove by. The temperatures rose and we doffed our jackets and soon windows were cracked to allow the fresh air into the car.

    In the small town of Bolivar, the fog was still hanging over the river. We stopped at one site and looked around awhile. Sadly what were once ruins was now a cleared patch of ground. A nice RR bridge crossed the Conemaugh River, with the fog it would have made a nice picture if a train came across it, but that was not to be. A couple trains passed us on tracks beside the bridge but none crossed it while we were there. One of them was an Amtrak train, we waved but couldn’t see if anyone noticed us.

    As we drove around the town, we talked with a couple of the residents. They told us that as far as they knew, all remnants of the brickyards were gone. Perhaps, I’ll have to return another time to look further.

    Continuing on the back roads, we kept the car pointing east.  Turning onto a smaller road we crossed a small stream, Richards Run, where we pulled over and got out to enjoy the scene. White Dogwoods sat on one side and small yellow flowers grew on the other. The sound of the stream as it tumbled over the rocks was refreshing and relaxing. Sunshine illuminated the water as it pooled under the rocks and in our minds… all was good with the world!

    A short distance down the road we came across a fox. It ran in front of us for a bit before dashing up the hillside and behind some rocks. We also ran across some deer, one of them nearly with our bumper. Swerving and braking, we managed to pass it with inches to spare. Along with the beauty of the state, there are also some dangers; you never know when they might appear.

    In New Alexandria we passed a huge coal fueled power station but, while it looked dramatic, didn’t interest us at all. We were heading towards older industry. 

    A few miles out of town, we visited the Laurel Hill Furnace. Built in 1845, it only produced iron for about 10-15 years. Once a place filled with smoke and noise and wooden buildings crowding around the furnace, now all that remain of this once thriving industry is the stack. A mile or two further back the road, in the game-lands is what remains of the Baldwin Furnace. We didn’t bother going there, been there, done that!

    Going south towards Ligonier, we stopped and visited the Valley, or Hill View Furnace. This furnace was built in 1850. Built out of field stone, it isn’t as “polished” as the Laurel Hill Furnace. Trees are growing on top of it; their roots are slowly breaking it down. There are often cows feeding on the grass surrounding the stack but today, it sat all alone in the field, under a beautiful blue sky.

    As is so often the case, there were a couple geocaches that we ran into along the way. One was situated between the two roads in front of Idlewild Amusement Park and the second one was behind the park near an old train station. Once in serious disrepair, it has been rejuvenated and is now the Ligonier Valley Railroad Museum. The gate was open but the building was closed, we snooped around a bit and then continued on.

    We drove through one of the nicest sections of route 30, where the Loyalhanna Creek splits the two directions of travel. High mountains are divided by the stream with cottages sitting near the water. The trees lining the road climb up out of sight. Even with the traffic going by I can’t imagine that this wouldn’t be a relaxing spot to sit by the water!

(Taken in 2022)

    We turned north and ended up in Blairsville where we stopped for lunch at Deans Diner. Deans first opened in the town of Blairsville in 1934. The diner, situated alongside rt.22 has been here since 1953.

    It was lunchtime and there was a steady flow of customers coming and going. We sat beside two men who were heading towards a camp near Mount Union. All through the diner, people were talking with each other while they enjoyed their food. I didn’t notice any phones being stared at while we were there. We talked with the men beside us as we ate and then they headed east to their camp and we headed west towards our homes.

    The fog was just a memory as we drove home under blue skies dotted with puffy white clouds. It was time to head home, there were chores waiting for us. What a great way to start the day! 

Leo J. Scanlon

 The e-mail has just arrived. Tonight’s star party has been cancelled due to rain, clouds and muddy fields. I had an idea that this was going to happen. There is a good chance that tomorrow’s activities at the Wagman Observatory will be cancelled also. They tend to go hand in hand, plans for anything astronomical and bad weather.

    Even though it is doubtful, I am still keeping my fingers crossed for Saturday night. We can’t give up hoping!

    Along with Independent Bookstore Day, which won’t be hampered by rain, tomorrow is also Astronomy Day. This is a day when astronomers, both amateur and professional, share their knowledge, enthusiasm and love of the skies above us.

    This year’s Astronomy Day comes at a good time, it is the day before the birthday of a man who spent his life promoting astronomy. On April 30, 1903, Leo J. Scanlon joined the human race. 

    In his 20’s, he built his first telescope and not long after, he and Chester Roe formed the Amateur Astronomers Association of Pittsburgh. (AAAP) The club is still thriving. He was a plumber by trade but his real love was the stars above!

    Shortly afterward, he and friends, no doubt club members, designed and built the Valley View Observatory.

Leo sitting on the dome to prove its strength

Placing the dome

Almost ready for use

    Located in his backyard in the North Hills of Pittsburgh, it was the first observatory to have an aluminum domed roof on it. His design was copied by numerous professional observatories and gave us the image we picture when we think about observatories. It was dedicated in November of 1930 and stood there until 1997, 67 years later, when it was dismantled.

Leo and Albert Einstein

    In 1934, he sent a letter to Albert Einstein inviting him to visit the AAAP display at the convention of the American Association for the Advancement of Science which was being held in Pittsburgh. When Einstein arrived, he spent about 20 minutes at the display and later corresponded with Leo.

    During the same year, he was invited to watch the pouring of the glass which would form the 200” mirror for the Hale Telescope at the Corning Glass Works.

    Leo was influential in getting the city to build the Buhl Planetarium. After it was built, he and Nicholas Wagman, the director of the Allegheny Observatory were the first two speakers to give lectures at the facility.

    He also had a part in helping to create the Astronomical League in 1947.

    In 1998, a historical marker was placed on McKnight Road, not far from where his observatory sat. During the ceremony, he was told that an asteroid had been named after him!

Leo at First Light of the Brashear Telescope at Wagman, 1995

    Leo passed away in 1999. He led quite an exciting astronomical life for a plumber. He is another person who set an example for us, of what a person can accomplish.

    While we watch the rain falling outside our windows, let's give a little thought to the people like Leo and think about how we can follow in their footsteps!

    Happy Birthday Leo, thanks for all you’ve done for us!