Give It a Tri: Tri Asian Taste focuses on three Asian cuisines, all under one roof.

January 31, 2020 | by Stephanie Kalina-Metzger

For decades, a standalone Asian restaurant anchored a busy corner in Hampden Township, feeding a couple of generations with familiar Chinese staples.

Last year, Chef Wong hung up his apron, but, recently, a worthy successor has reopened the doors to the Trindle Road eatery. In October, Nyunt and Than Win debuted Tri Asian Taste, hoping for their own long run with a unique repertoire of authentic Burmese, Thai and Japanese cuisine.

Nyunt hails from Burma, leaving in 1995 due to political unrest, joined in the United States seven years later by his wife, Than. They owned and operated a grocery in New York before moving to this area with their two children five years ago. The couple used their sushi-making talents for local Giant Food stores before opening Tri Asian Taste.

“I wanted to be my own boss, and this is close to my home, so I liked the location,” said Nyunt about the decision to choose the old Chef Wong’s building.

Before opening, they spruced up the interior with new flooring, sunny yellow paint and dozens of brightly colored umbrellas that hang upside down from the ceiling. A scene, which spans the back wall, depicts the annual Burmese Water Festival.

“That’s a celebration of our New Year,” said Nyunt, remarking that he wanted his 70-seat eatery to reflect his native country.

A long-time Chef Wong’s patron, Eric Cohen of Mechanicsburg, said that he liked the new, updated look.

“They modernized it, making it brighter and more open,” he said. “It’s colorful, warm and inviting.”

Than does most of the cooking, attributing her skills in the kitchen to the tutelage of a friend.

“She owned a restaurant in upstate New York and taught me how to cook,” she said.

The education, though, never stops, as she continues to learn from a chef in Thailand.

“He teaches us, and, this way, the food is more authentic,” she said. “Sometimes, we use our creativity to create a fusion.”

The extensive menu features the cuisine of several different Asian cultures, spanning the gamut from sushi to curry dishes to soups, salads and desserts.

In comparing Thai, Burmese and Japanese cuisines, Than finds Thai food to be the easiest to cook, as well as the most popular.

“Thai food uses ingredients like coconut milk and is sweet, sour and spicy,” she said. “We sell a lot of it.”

While the Japanese creations like sushi, nigiri and sashimi are quick to make and rather straightforward, Burmese dishes are a little more labor intensive, Than said.

“Burmese food is very close to Indian food and is a little more difficult to make compared to the others,” she said. “The dishes have to simmer longer, and they take more time.”

One dish reminds the couple of Burma every time they serve it. Called the “T.A.T. (Tri Asian Taste) Morning,” the creation is comprised of fried paratha, cooked white vatana peas, fried onion and peanut oil.

“The Burmese eat this for breakfast,” Nyunt said.

Cohen attested to the authenticity of the dishes, having worked around the world. He remarked on a recent visit when he, his son and daughter-in-law ordered a range of dishes from the menu.

“We thought the rolls were good, the beef dish was amazing and the soup, at $5, was huge.” he said, adding that he’ll return for the authenticity, the fair prices, the pleasant service and the welcoming atmosphere.

Nyunt, who works the front of the house, said what he likes most about the experience is meeting new people. Than agreed that she, too, enjoys meeting her customers, especially when their eyes light up as they bite into one of her creations.

“That makes me very happy,’ she said, breaking out into a wide smile.

Tri Asian Taste is located at 5001 E. Trindle Rd., Mechanicsburg. For more information, call 717-972-1247 or visit www.triasiantaste.com.

The Big Crunch: Can anything be done about the stuck trucks of Front Street?

January 31, 2020 | by M. Diane McCormick

Webb Bunch, an owner of Integrity Truck Co., has never seen Harrisburg’s notorious “low bridge” on Front Street. He wasn’t there when one of his drivers got stuck in December. But he knows he acquired an expensive problem.

“The driver said he was going down the street,” Bunch said. “Under the bridge was fine, but there’s a little dip in the road, and it kinda popped the trailer up, and the trailer hit the bridge, and it lodged him in.”

Harrisburg’s bridges. Picturesque and vital to commerce and everyday life. That is, except one that has caused headaches for years.

You know who you are, Amtrak overpass in Shipoke. The age of GPS has not solved a stuck-truck problem there that spans decades and, in fact, may now be perpetuating it.

That Bridge

“12FT 6IN,” the signs say. “500 feet,” the signs say.

Most tractor-trailers stand around 13½ feet. And yet, truckers persist in pressing their luck, often to the bad luck of motorists stuck in traffic when those trucks get jammed. Some drivers, it’s said, might be using Front Street as a shortcut to avoid the Harrisburg beltway on their way from Interstate 81 to 83.

The most recent incident occurred on Dec. 11. This was the tractor-trailer that Bunch vowed made the clearance but was foiled by that dip, which really does take vehicles nose-down even as the road veers left. Most stuck trucks extricate themselves by deflating their tires and backing up while police direct traffic, causing short-ish delays.

The December case, though, was “a rarity—thank goodness,” said Harrisburg police Sgt. Kyle Gautsch. For five hours, Front Street’s rush-hour, West Shore-bound traffic was squeezed to one lane.

The driver, knowing that his truck was already stuck, had tried to pull it through, Gautsch said. That caused the trailer to collapse, V’ing at the center. All 35,000 pounds of cargo had to be unloaded. The damaged trailer was removed from under the bridge, reinforced and pulled from the road by towers experienced in working with big rigs and trailers.

Charges, added Gautsch, “are still pending.” Truckers can be cited for disobeying traffic control signals, for a maximum fine of $25 and costs. Harrisburg posts warning signs on Front Street up the block, before the Market Street Bridge and on the Market Street Bridge itself.

A $500 fine can be imposed for restricting use of the road. The city is unlikely to be reimbursed for police services, because it’s all in a day’s work.

“We can’t bill them because they’re an inconvenience,” said Gautsch.

Culprit GPS

Stuck trucks rarely damage roads, said PennDOT spokesperson Fritzi Schreffler. It’s the bridges that can take damage, but the Front Street bridge appears to be standing the test of time.

“That has got to be one of the strongest bridges ever built,” she said.

Police officials remain confident about bridge integrity, agreed Gautsch. If the bridge ever appears significantly damaged, the responding officer would call Amtrak to inspect the site. (Amtrak did not make anyone available for an interview or respond to TheBurg’s written questions about the bridge.)

The problem occurs statewide, including at a similar spot in Carlisle where PennDOT has “signed the heck out of it,” said Schreffler. How does this pervasive problem happen? It may simply be a cyber-age twist on an old-fashioned case of drivers ignoring or missing the warning signs.

“The way we feel it’s going is that they’re blindly following GPS and not reading the signs,” Schreffler said.

Yes, bridge strikes are a statewide problem, and yes, GPS is a culprit, said Kevin Stewart, president and CEO of the Pennsylvania Motor Truck Association.

GPS systems are available for commercial trucks, but they can be pricey. U.S. and state trucking associations often remind drivers not to rely solely on GPS, or at least, use only those meant for commercial vehicles that track bridge clearances.

“Part of it is complacency,” Stewart told TheBurg. “Drivers have come to rely on electronics. They forget about the very simple things, like reading road signs.”

When bridge strikes cause damage to property or cargo, insurance premiums rise. Consumers can also feel the pinch in costs incurred when the intended recipient rejects the cargo, and of course, in lost time caused by traffic tie-ups.

Stuck trucks and other accidents at the two low bridges flanking UPMC Pinnacle Harrisburg Hospital, including the Front Street span, “can affect visitor and employee access,” said spokesperson Kelly McCall. Hospital personnel and EMS providers know how to reach the facility through its multiple access points.

Most damage to trucks and bridges is minor, she added, but UPMC Pinnacle’s emergency operations plan includes provisions to mitigate severe structural damage or any release of hazardous materials.

Stewart didn’t have data on Pennsylvania’s bridge-strike ranking among states, but he said the problem seems prevalent in the Northeast, where low and aging infrastructure meets today’s higher, muscular trucks.

Last Out

Are more signs an answer?

“How many signs do you put up when people don’t read signs?” Schreffler responded.

How about raising the bridge?

“Can you imagine what the cost would be? They live in the same kind of world we do—data-driven.”

A funky-looking warning system erected by PennDOT at a Schuylkill County bridge has stopped bridge strikes through hanging pylons that brush excess-height roofs while there’s still time to turn off the road. However, the pylons are filled with concrete, and PennDOT’s Harrisburg-area safety engineer concluded that hanging any near this region’s trouble spots would create liability issues (“like whacking through a windshield,” the engineer told Schreffler).

After the December incident, PennDOT reviewed signage at the Front Street bridge and concluded that “it is properly signed at 12 feet, 6 inches,” said Schreffler. PennDOT is contacting the city to discuss “last out” issues—those turnoffs that over-height drivers can take to avoid the big crunch.

The problem there? Maneuvering vehicular behemoths through narrow city streets, making left turns that lead back to—you guessed it—the Front Street Amtrak bridge.

Road Rethink: Forster Street is an artifact of poor ’50s planning. It’s time to reassess.

January 31, 2020 | by Lawrance Binda

Illustration by Rich Hauck.

How’s 1952 treating you?

“The Perry Como Show,” Doris Day, duck and cover. Great stuff.

Wait, you don’t recall these things?

Well, in a sense, you are living in 1952—in Harrisburg, we all are.

In that year, Gov. John S. Fine approved the widening of Forster Street, allowing the state to blast through a leafy, quaint residential neighborhood to create what eventually would become a nine-lane (six through, two parking, one turning lane) asphalt hellscape.

We are now living in someone else’s reality, someone else’s vision of Harrisburg, namely a bunch of state officials and engineers, long gone, who sketched out a future ruled by the automobile.

I have in mind Judge Doom from “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” as he dreamily imagined “eight lanes of shimmering cement” in place of Toon Town.

“They’re calling it a freeway,” he said, lost in a reverie. “My God, it’ll be beautiful.”

Like in the movie, plenty of stuff was inconveniently in the way on and near Forster Street—not fictional cartoon characters, but very real houses, businesses and human beings. But that was nothing that condemnation orders, property takings, bulldozers and blacktop couldn’t remedy.

Where Judge Doom failed, the commonwealth of Pennsylvania succeeded.

As we enter the 2020s, it’s perfectly reasonable to reassess this experiment. After all, 70 years seems plenty of time to judge whether or not something has worked.

In terms of moving workers to their jobs—the state’s only concern during Howdy Doody times—I’d give Harrisburg’s mini-freeway a grade of “C-minus.”

It basically accomplished that mission, but at a very high cost. Yes, the street successfully carries traffic from the Harvey Taylor Bridge to the Capitol Complex and back, but it’s also poorly engineered. Its width, speed off of the bridge and intersections with other busy city streets encourage speeding and light-running, which inevitably means crashes.

It’s also, for 22 hours a day, far too wide. All of those lanes are unnecessary to carry the average traffic load for about 95 percent of the 168-hour week, a sign of poor road design, planning and vision. In other words, Forster Street is vastly overbuilt, which may not have been obvious in the 1950s, but is now.

In terms of its impact on Harrisburg—can I go lower than “F?”

Forster Street ripped the heart out of Harrisburg, dividing neighborhoods and creating a vast, dangerous chasm smack in the middle of the city. Built as an integrated series of walkable neighborhoods, Harrisburg became fragmented and inhospitable. Soon, Front and 2nd streets also became mini-highways, making residents feel that they were living on one big traffic island—and who wants that?

It’s difficult to exaggerate the disaster that this was for the city. These road projects kicked off a decades-long death spiral of urban flight, depopulation and disinvestment that we’re only now emerging from. Yes, state workers got to their jobs a little faster, paid for by the ruination of the capital city.

My understanding is that two aligned forces pushed the Forster Street expansion.

The first consisted of state officials under the sway of the wealthy and influential road construction industry, as well as powerful political boss Harvey Taylor, who saw the expansion of the Capitol complex and the grand boulevard leading up to it as a living monument to himself. In retrospect, they deserve all the censure we can muster.

The second force consisted of rank-and-file engineers and planners who likely believed this truly was the future. After all, Harrisburg was hardly alone in the urban highway trend. Roads were plowing through city after city, soon destabilizing and destroying them, too. If you were a civil engineer in the 1940s and ‘50s, knocking down buildings and throwing up highways was the thing to do.

But that was 70 years ago. Time moves on. Societies change, cities change, Harrisburg has changed. But Forster Street is essentially the same as the day the project’s ribbon was cut in the 1950s. It’s like we’re in a time warp, living out someone else’s failed vision of the future.

So, where to now?

It’s time for a rethink. The state should be working with the city to assess all of its road infrastructure in Harrisburg—what works, what doesn’t, and what might prepare us for the future, not just ignore or patch up past mistakes.

The thing is—we already know generally what this would look like based upon similar efforts in many cities around the country.

No, we can’t go back in time and magically return Forster to a small neighborhood street, but we can integrate it better into its city. This might mean a slimmer street with wider sidewalks, more green infrastructure, differentiated pavement, bump-outs, bike lanes and other measures that put pedestrians and cyclists on a more equal footing with autos. People shouldn’t fear for their lives simply because they want to cross the street between downtown and Midtown Harrisburg.

Harrisburg circa 1950 was a vastly different city than it was 70 years earlier—the mud-street, horse-centric 1880s. Likewise, Harrisburg of 2020 is vastly different than Harrisburg of 1950. To me, a rethink every 70 or so years is entirely reasonable.

Lawrance Binda is co-publisher/editor-in-chief of TheBurg.

Flower Power: This month, you may see a very long line down 3rd Street. Here’s why.

January 31, 2020 | by Maddie Conley

Hari Chakra. Photo by Dani Fresh.

When I’m downtown, I often walk past a stand full of vibrantly colored flowers.

Most of the time, I’m headed to interview a business owner or attend a press conference in city hall. I’ve never had a reason to buy flowers, although glimpsing the rainbow of hues is always a bright spot of my day.

In October, I received my first lei. A man with a friendly smile waved me over as he stood propped against a minivan opposite his table full of flowers. He turned to reach inside the car, pulled out a necklace strung with bright orange marigolds and placed it over my head.

I’ve had my share of interesting encounters in Harrisburg, but this was a new one.

I thanked him and continued on my way, walking the streets like I was Hawaiian royalty. A few quizzical looks were shot my way, but what a fun story I had to tell.

And then it happened again a couple months later—another lei.

Rain or Shine

In the coldest months, Hari Chakra pulls up to his spot on N. 3rd Street, between Locust and Cranberry streets, and places a single flower on top of his van. He was taught this trick for days like this—really cold ones. After awhile, he will check on the flower, seeing if it has frozen. He handed me today’s test flower, prompting me to feel the petals. If it felt stiff, he would have to keep the bulk of his flowers in the van for the day.

“We’ve made a declaration—we will always be here, no matter what,” Chakra said. “Rain, shine, snow or sleet.”

Five days a week, Chakra drives about an hour from his home in Port Royal to pick up flowers from a wholesaler to bring to the city. He sets up shop in his usual location and lays out some of the eye-catching clusters.

He’s been doing this since 2003, shortly after he moved to the United States from Ghana. At first, he was taken under the wing of Mike Blum, who started this flower business. The pair became partners, but also good friends. Blum even lived with Chakra and his family for about six years.

“We became very close,” Blum said. “We were a team.”

Unfortunately, Blum had two heart attacks over the course of a few years, limiting his ability to work. He then decided to move to Boston to take care of his elderly mother. Chakra was sad to lose his partner, but he had been trained by the best, he said. The business became his.

“It was hard for me to give that up,” Blum said. “But it got to the point where I just couldn’t do it anymore. I knew he could take care of it.”

Although Blum remained in Boston, even after his mother passed, he still has been known to re-appear in Harrisburg to help with sales on the busiest holidays of the year. If you stop by the stand on Valentine’s Day this month, you will see him there making bouquets and catching up with old friends.

Never Disappoint

Within the span of the hour or so that I stood speaking with Chakra, a handful of people came up to purchase a bouquet or waved as they walked past.

“In Harrisburg, everybody knows us,” he said.

On normal days like this, there’s a steady flow of customers. Many are regulars that come a few times a week, while others stop by for special occasions. No matter the budget, Chakra can create an arrangement for his customers.

“When people want to make up with their wives and fiancés, we are here for them,” he said, with a chuckle and a sly grin.

However, if you have walked down 3rd Street on Valentine’s or Mother’s Day, you’ve seen the line. The typical steady flow turns into a multi-block-long pileup of eager flower buyers.

Chakra told me the story of one Valentine’s Day that was particularly challenging.

“It was so cold,” he said. “We had three heaters in the truck and still the flowers were freezing.”

He had to cover the back of the large U-Haul truck with cardboard, attempting to protect the flowers from the wind. People were shouting their requests from their cars, only running out to quickly swap their cash for a bouquet.

“As long as we are determined to work hard, you will get it,” he said. “We will never disappoint.”

Brightens My Day

Midtown resident Heidi Richel-Haines was in her senior year at Penn State University when her boyfriend walked into her room with two huge armfuls of flowers. Her roommates gawked at the sight, wondering how their friend had gotten so lucky.

“We both laughed because we knew where he got them from,” Richel-Haines said. “Your money goes far there.”

The wooing of Richel-Haines with flowers became a regular treat. She received so many that she would end up giving some to her roommates—sharing the wealth.

These days, about 18 years later, Richel-Haines works in the state Capitol building, near the flower stand. Every time she walks by, memories of her days in college flood her mind. Every so often, she stops by.

“I decided to treat myself on paydays,” she said. “Being a single person, I don’t have all the money in the world, but your money goes far there. It really just brightens my day.”

This, I realized, is why Chakra gives out leis to lucky passersby and works with any budget to create a beautiful bouquet—he just wants to make people happy.

“You can have a lot of money, but, if you can’t make people happy, then what is the point?” he said. “This is a job that you help people out and make them feel happy.”

On his off days, Chakra loves spending time with his family. He plays soccer with his youngest daughter and practices running track with her. All of his work is for his wife and five daughters, he said.

But it’s not only his family he seeks to benefit through his business; his mission is citywide.

“We have all the power to make the world a good place to be,” Chakra said. “It begins with ourselves.”

Mike and Hari’s Flowers is located on N. 3rd Street between Locust and Cranberry streets. For more information, visit their Facebook page.

Wonder in Song: The quirky, whimsical “Amelie” floats from big screen to Open Stage.

January 31, 2020 | by Rachel Landon

They say times are hard for dreamers
And, who knows, maybe they are
People seem stuck, or lost at sea!
And I might be a dreamer
But it’s gotten me this far
And that is far enough for me…

— “Times Are Hard for Dreamers,” “Amélie”

In my college years, my roommate introduced me to “Amélie,” a French film directed by Jean-Pierre Jeunet (“The City of Lost Children,” “A Very Long Engagement”). The film garnered a myriad of award nods, including five Academy Award nominations and international acclaim for the beautiful acting performances, idiosyncratic narrative and stylish production design.

My roommate (whose quirky, hipster style was largely influenced from Audrey Tautou’s colorful wardrobe in the film and the adorable, I’m-trying-but-trying-not-to-look-like-I’m-trying bob and bangs haircut) gushed over the film nonstop, and she idolized the dreamy, altruistic Amélie.

Needless to say, I found myself watching the film a lot, and like many of the people who have experienced this story, I also found myself inspired by the titular character’s journey. Like many of the plays in Open Stage’s season of “Metamorphosis,” “Amélie” is a story I’ve had a longstanding relationship with, and I find that relationship coming full circle with “Amélie,” the musical adaptation of said 2001 French film, which debuts on Feb. 1 as part of Open Stage’s 34th season.

“Amélie” is the story of Amélie Poulain, a shy waitress who, through a series of fateful events, finds herself inspired to change the lives of the people around her, a cast of eccentrics who find love, direction and even closure through Amélie’s deeds. Meanwhile, Amélie herself struggles to find human connection while working diligently to connect others to their hopes and dreams.

In 2015, a musical based on the film was work-shopped, premiered and, eventually, moved to Broadway in 2017. With music by Daniel Messé (from the indie folk band Hem), lyrics by Messé and Nathan Tysen (“Tuck Everlasting,” “The Burnt Part Boys,” “Sesame Street”), and a book by Craig Lucas (“Reckless,” “An American in Paris,” “Prelude to a Kiss”), the production received mixed reviews and a short run in a competitive Broadway season (this was the same year that blockbusters such as “Come From Away” and “Dear Evan Hansen” premiered). But Stuart Landon, Open Stage’s producing artistic director, saw the promise of the simple, yet somehow sweeping story and placed it in this year’s main stage season.

Like other Broadway musicals presented in Open Stage’s 120-seat theater, this gorgeous musical has been boiled down to a simpler, small cast production, designed by scenic artist M.O. Geiger, who has created a whimsical backdrop to Jen Kilander’s beautifully saturated costume design and Tristan Stasiulis’ fast-paced lighting. Helmed by Nicholas Werner as musical director (“Carrie the Musical,” “Ragtime”), Kelly Strange as choreographer (“Fun Home,” “Carrie the Musical,” “Ragtime”) and Stuart Landon as director, this production team strives to bring the original charm, quirk and romanticism of “Amélie’s” story to life for Harrisburg audiences.

The Broadway production starred Phillipa Soo, known best for her performance in “Hamilton,” who was lauded for her performance in the original cast. These are some large shoes to fill, and Harrisburg actor Gabriella DeCarli will be tackling the role of Amélie at Open Stage. This is a vocally as well as emotionally challenging role, but DeCarli, a performer with a long list of professional credits at local theaters, is up for the challenge

“Amélie and I are similar in a lot of ways, which has made playing her so enjoyable,” DeCarli said. “The main thing we have in common is our wild sense of imagination. Growing up as an only child (like Amélie), I spent a lot of time trying to find ways to entertain myself. My imagination tended to take the driver’s seat, and I am lucky that I haven’t lost that sense of imagination as an adult.”

Amélie is not your typical heroine, but her childlike wonder and that sense of imagination makes for a stirring and heartwarming story.

“At its core, ‘Amélie’ is a story about doing good in the world,” said Landon. “And the world has become a dark place loaded with fear, despair and uncertainty. The beauty of musical theater, and I think this musical, in particular, is that it casts a shining light on the lives of people who experience it. We strive to ‘open your mind’ here at Open Stage, and I believe that ‘Amélie’ will inspire people to open their hearts, as well.”

“Amélie” runs Feb. 1 to March 8 at Open Stage, 25 N. Court St., Harrisburg. Tickets can be purchased at www.openstagehbg.com or by calling the box office at 717-232-6736. Open Stage’s new walk-up box office hours are Tuesday through Friday, 4 to 6 p.m., and up to one hour before performances.

Family Style: Mayor John McDonald sets out to affirm, enrich Penbrook’s sense of small-town community.

January 31, 2020 | by Phyllis Zimmerman

For Penbrook Mayor John McDonald, work and family are inseparable.

Since taking office last year, McDonald, a father of three, said his greatest goal as mayor is maintaining a sense of family within this small community of about 3,000 residents just outside of Harrisburg.

“I would love to see this continue to be a big family-oriented borough.” McDonald said recently.

McDonald, 35, is the first African American to serve as mayor since Penbrook was incorporated as a borough in 1894. Although McDonald said he’s honored to carry this distinction, he also believes that race is incidental to serving in the post.

“Really, I’m just another person in the job,” he said with a shrug.

Most likely, former Penbrook mayor PeggyAnne Miller would dispute McDonald’s modest assessment of his public service. When a move to Lower Paxton Township caused Miller to resign as mayor last year, she quickly recommended McDonald, then a Penbrook councilman, as her replacement.

“John has a young family in the borough, and he’s done a lot of work with our summer programs. He’s very interested in our kids and our parks and getting our community involved in things,” Miller explained. “He just is very involved with the borough and is a very dedicated person.”

McDonald was appointed as mayor by the Penbrook Borough Council last June to fill the remainder of Miller’s term, which expires in December 2021. He now plans to run for an elected term as mayor in 2021, which is fine with his friend David Deardorff.

“I wish John continues as mayor and stays mayor for a very long time,” said Deardorff, a 14-year borough council veteran. “John’s real good here serving on the borough. He’s gotten a whole lot of nonpartisans to come out and help. This borough has become more family-oriented under his leadership. I like his community involvement, I love his personality, and I love his family.”

McDonald grew up in Oberlin and graduated from Central Dauphin East High School in 2002 before settling in Penbrook 11 years ago with wife Brenda. Daughter Mykenzie, 18, graduates from CD East in June, while sons John III, 8, and Dwayne, 5, attend Southside Elementary School.

Ten years ago, McDonald began his career as a corrections officer at the Dauphin County prison after earning degrees in criminal justice from Thompson Institute and Lockhaven University.

“I felt it was the best way to help people,” McDonald said, explaining why he pursued a career in that field. “It was the best way to bridge people. I’m a people person by heart.”

McDonald first decided to run for borough councilman four years ago “because it was something different. I wanted to see how the political side works.”

He was further encouraged to run for the post by a coworker, Ken Cramer, who also happened to serve on borough council at the time.

As it turned out, McDonald learned “a whole lot” during his tenure.

“Being able to cover a small government’s budget is mind-blowing,” he recalled. “Then learning about all ordinances we have throughout the state and rewording those to match our community.”

As mayor, he said that his greatest responsibility is keeping the community safe.

“We don’t have a whole lot of crime here,” McDonald said. “But I don’t want us to become too complacent about it, either.”

In fact, McDonald’s experience in the criminal justice field was a major reason that Miller recommended him for mayor.

“I’m really happy, and I think the police officers and chief are as happy with him as mayor, too,” she said.

Since becoming mayor, McDonald may be most proud of December’s grand re-opening of the newly renovated Elm Street Station Park. He spent months working with a borough parks subcommittee overseeing the project’s fine points, which involved the installation of new landscaping, children’s playground amenities, picnic and game tables and an adult exercise area with benches.

This project was a perfect fit for the family atmosphere that McDonald is working to foster in the borough.

“I love the fact that we’re a small borough and family-oriented,” McDonald said. “I believe it’s a great place to raise my children.”

It Takes This Village: How the Midtown community rallied around one family’s adoption.

January 31, 2020 | by Maddie Conley

As the “Friends” gang is to Central Perk and the “Seinfeld” group is to Monk’s Café, so are Kenny and Beth Johns to Ted’s Bar & Grill in Midtown Harrisburg.

On a typical weekend, you can find them there chatting with friends over a meal and a drink. The managers and cooks have become friends, and the Johnses have become a pair of regulars.

While the couple is well known at Ted’s, their 2-year-old son Julien is the one who steals the show. Perched on the to-go counter, the toddler calls out for “more fries” and takes the role of the smallest chef in the kitchen. His signature meal (which any good regular has) is chicken tenders and fries.

“Julien is intelligent, bright and warms the atmosphere when he comes in,” said Jesse Hamilton, managing partner of Ted’s.

It was only a couple of years ago that Kenny and Beth were at Ted’s for a breakfast fundraiser, surrounded by friends supporting their mission of adoption, a journey that would eventually bring them Julien.

New Dreams

In 2013, the Johnses moved to Midtown Harrisburg, and they quickly knew it was their permanent home, where they would raise their family. After a few years, they were ready for kids, but endured more than two years of miscarriages, surgeries and specialists, which left them doubting whether they would ever be parents.

Throughout the couple’s long struggle, family and friends were always there, but they could do little besides offer kind words and encouragement.

In 2017, Beth finally told people that, yes, they needed help. They were going to adopt—and they needed their community to support them.

The couple created a GoFundMe page to aid with the high cost of adopting. Their friends held a concert and yard sale to help. Not only did their circle of Midtown friends get involved, but even strangers from the large neighborhood donated. The family they wanted was finally coming into focus.

Near the end of the year, they got the call. Their son was born, and they dropped everything to go meet him.

City Boy

Raising their son in Midtown embedded the Johns family into their community even more than before.

“We’ve engaged with this community in such a new and different way,” Beth said. “We’ve gotten to know our neighbors because they know him.”

After playing in what Julien deems “my park” on Sayford Street, the family often heads to Midtown Scholar Bookstore for his apple juice and the Broad Street Market for a soft pretzel.

“He’s super-social,” Beth said. “He has friends all around town.”

Soon enough, Julien will be able to order off a kid’s menu at Ted’s, an addition that Hamilton is creating, in part, due to inspiration from the Johns family.

“The Johnses are able to see Harrisburg as a great place to raise a family in,” Hamilton said. “They look at a philosophy of digging their roots in, and I don’t think many people look at their time in Harrisburg as that. I was certain I needed to take a position to welcome families.”

Round Two

Not long ago, Kenny and Julien took a trip around town, stopping for a selfie with the owners, managers and employees of all their favorite Midtown spots. They say a picture is worth a thousand words right? Well, in this case, it’s worth a lot more.

These snapshots would serve as evidence of their role in the community for their parent profile book. They’re adopting again.

“We’ve always known that we wanted more than one,” Kenny said. “We felt like it was the right time.”

This time, the Johnses are going all in to involve Midtown on their journey of making their family of three a family of four.

They sold T-shirts and mugs, held an ultimate Frisbee competition, hosted a barbecue and sent out more letters than they could count. Businesses like Yellow Bird Café, Evanilla, Dalicia Bakery, Keystone Restaurant and, of course, Ted’s, have all donated to the family.

“It takes a village to raise a child,” has become the couple’s motto.

“Throughout our whole story, our village has been there,” Beth said.

To follow the Johns family’s story, visit their Facebook page: “Kenny and Beth Adopt.”

Love & Business: It’s a family affair at L&L Beauty.

January 31, 2020 | by Yaasmeen Piper

Lynette Holmes, Leroy & Lynnae Armstrong

Hair is one of the most prominent staples of black culture. Our hair can tell the story of who we are, where we’ve been, our family lineage, etc. Because our hair is so important to us, beauty supply stores are like a second home.

In my 22 years going in and out of beauty supply shops, I’ve only seen a handful that were black-owned. That’s why it was so refreshing stepping into L&L Beauty Supply store.

Lynnae Armstrong, co-owner of L&L, greeted me with a smile as soon as I walked in.

The walls of the store were lined with colorful hair, from grey and red to ombre pink and lavender. There are shelves stacked with natural hair products, makeup, nail polish, accessories and more. The store, which officially opened on Nov. 23, has numerous national black-haircare brands such as SheaMoisture and Dark and Lovely, but also locally produced products. It was like walking into a candy store; I didn’t know where to start.

“In America, black people spend approximately $7.5 billion annually on hair supplies, beauty products, makeup, skin products,” said Lynette Holmes, co-owner of L&L and Armstrong’s mother. “We are the top consumer in that particular area, and with us spending so much money, why would we not want a stake in it?”

It didn’t take much contemplation before Holmes, Lynnae and her husband Leroy Armstrong decided to go into business together. They all read various reports about the lack of black-owned beauty supply stores and had a discussion about it. The conversation took place over a few sessions until one night they really dove into their mode of attack and decided to open L&L. The next day, they went out and registered their business name.

According to Holmes, she makes up one of the “L’s” while Leroy and Lynnae make up the other. The two have been inseparable since the beginning stages of their love story. Though they went to the same school and Leroy was even in her house once, the two didn’t start talking until they met on a dating website.

After talking for a few days, they met up at his church then started to go on more and more dates outside the church. Within days, they were in a whirlwind romance. The first week, they introduced their parents to one another. By the second week, they had their names tattooed on each other.

“Thank God we ended up married,” Lynnae said between a fit of laughter.

The couple, who have been together for five years and married for one, also own a general contracting business and buy and sell houses together, so working together at L&L was nothing new.

“We’re together all day every day,” Leroy said. “We’re accustomed to each other.”

Though there are some ups and downs, all three love working together. They are open and blunt with one another, which they say benefits their business more than harms it. There’s no such thing as beating around the bush when you’re working with your family.

“We’re a family running a business,” Holmes said. “We laugh, we love, we fight. We’re family.”

L&L is still in the process of growing its business and adding more local entrepreneurs and artists into the store. Currently, some of the local vendors they have are Wow Damn Foxy Hair, a line of haircare products, These Lips are Da’ Balm homemade lip balms and Lyniques Accessories, which was created by Holmes herself.

The products in the store are all handpicked from places across the East Coast, from New York all the way to Florida. According to Holmes and Leroy, they select their products based on recent trends, customer feedback and their own hair care experiences.

“We just use the basic knowledge of being an African American,” Leroy said. “We know what we want to put in our hair and what other people want from us growing up.”

In five years, the three see L&L becoming a franchise and inspiring other African Americans to open their own stores. Lynnae hopes that the store brings in enough business that they can one day donate to up-and-coming local businesses and promote black entrepreneurship.

“We don’t want [L&L] to just be a beauty supply store,” she said. “We want it to be a place where you can just buy black. Period.”

L&L Beauty Supply Store is located at 310 Reily St., Harrisburg. For more information, visit their Facebook Page @LLBeautySupplyStore.

Michael’s Mission: Harrisburg man devotes his life to tracking down artifacts of slavery.

January 31, 2020 | by Karen Hendricks

Michael Doub describes it as a hunger.

He has a need to know more. He wants to know the truth about a single, vital subject—the history of slavery in the United States.

Over 30 years, he has sought, discovered and amassed a collection of historical artifacts that is believed to be one of the largest privately held collections of its kind in the country.

“I’ve always had a love of history,” said Doub, who lives in Harrisburg.

It was during his travels for the U.S. Navy that he began exploring museums. He was drawn to exhibits that focused on African Americans and slavery, but he realized that something was missing from the exhibits. While there were words and stories to read, there were few artifacts.

“It became a hunger for more information, and the more I got into it, the more I found myself questioning things,” he said. “It increases, because when you learn about slavery, you learn about the Civil War.”

So began his quest. He pointed to a brown case.

“That was my first item—my first set of shackles,” he said. “They are child’s shackles I bought at an antiques store in Mechanicsville, Virginia.”

He pointed to another set of shackles in the same case.

“If you look closely, you can see damage—someone tried to escape from these,” he said.

Doub thinks they’re about 200 years old. In all, he has about a dozen pairs of shackles. They’re similar to handcuffs, heavy, made of iron with D-shaped pieces that fit around wrists, connected by thick, chained links. There’s a progression in size, from the child’s shackles to those used on women and men.

His Passion

Michael and Ruby Doub have been married for 30 years and describe a “tight-knit family” of children and grandchildren. His career with the U.S. Department of Defense has stretched 41 years, focused on information technology for the Navy’s Trident nuclear submarines.

Ruby Doub is employed by Dauphin County and serves as the assistant to commission Chairman Jeff Haste. She’s also a former board member of the National Civil War Museum and Gamut Theatre, and, in fact, the couple enjoys attending Harrisburg’s arts, theater and history-focused events.

“I wasn’t supportive at first,” Ruby said, of her husband’s avocation. “I didn’t understand why he was spending money on these things, and he wasn’t always upfront with me.”

One time, Doub dropped his wife and daughter off at a soccer tournament in New Jersey. Rather than parking right away, he retraced their route to a roadside yard sale where an artifact had caught his eye. He purchased it and returned to his daughter’s soccer game.

“As I grew into my love for history throughout the years, I’ve become more and more proud of the collection and his passion for history,” Ruby said.

The collection is comprised of more than 100 artifacts—all of them mounted in plain brown cases. Each one required a search on Doub’s part. He tracked them down through magazine and newspaper ads for “relics,” at estate and yard sales, antique stores and barns. He traveled by car, train and airplane, purchasing tickets and gas, covering many miles through the Carolinas, Maryland, Georgia—primarily the southern states—but one local item hailed from Lancaster County.

He pictured one journey, in North Carolina. It’s where he purchased shackles, mixed with tractor parts, found in an old barn. He described the driveway, where red clay got stuck in his tires.

Some sellers acknowledge the artifacts’ uses, while others were oblivious, he said. Some were reluctant to say much at all.

Primarily constructed of metal, the artifacts look cold and heavy—physically, as well as in subject matter. Each artifact stands as a visual reminder of slavery. Although varied, each one was used to exert control.

Rattlers were attached around a slave’s legs or neck. They made noise if a slave tried to run; some cut into a slave’s legs with movement. Some items prevented slaves from eating—they were primarily used on women preparing food in a master’s kitchen. There are slave collars. Many of the items have bells, locks, or prongs. One bears the mark of the British crown.

Real, Raw

Some of the artifacts have been publicly displayed—at the State Museum of Pennsylvania, Harrisburg University, Messiah College, Penn State Harrisburg as well as Penn State University’s main campus and the National Civil War Museum. Doub often includes a talk titled, “The Danger of Forgetting.”

“There is a limitation to what people really want to know about slavery,” he said.

That’s why he believes that many museums don’t display artifacts like his; they’re too “real” and “raw.” But to him, they’re also “priceless.”

One question he cannot answer is whether his own ancestors were slaves. But he has wondered. A genealogy deep dive may be his next quest.

Has Wayne Motts, National Civil War Museum CEO, ever seen anything like Michael’s collection before?

“Never. Not in any museum,” Motts said. “Finding slavery-related items is rare. I don’t think it has to do with museums not wanting to display them—I think it’s finding them [that’s difficult].”

Motts was quick to point out that, when the museum was built in 2001, it was the first of its kind to put the issue of slavery “up front” as the cause of the Civil War.

“Slavery is a painful story, but that pain needs to be discussed,” he said. “The significance of Michael’s collection cannot be understated. They are historical materials, educational materials, artifacts to be preserved, interpreted, to tell the stories of slavery.”

All museums and historical collections begin with an individual—someone who sees the value in preserving the past. Someone who has a hunger for the truth. Someone like Michael Doub.

“Anyone who says one person can’t make a difference, can look at this,” Motts said.

Indeed, Doub said that his artifacts often have a profound impact on those who see them.

“People have multiple reactions—tears, questions, religious responses and some people just stare,” Doub said. “They say, ‘We knew about slavery, but we didn’t know about this.’”

To contact Michael and Ruby Doub about exhibiting their artifacts or presenting “The Danger of Forgetting,” you may email them at [email protected]. For more information on the National Civil War Museum, One Lincoln Circle, Reservoir Park, Harrisburg, visit www.nationalcivilwarmuseum.org.

“Greed” Is Good: The movie, that is.

January 31, 2020 | by Sammi Leigh Melville

There is power in satire, as it lets us pretend for one moment that the mirror we’re looking in is actually a window. This is what Michael Winterbottom’s movie “Greed” attempts to do.

The film follows a biographer (David Mitchell), who is doing a story on Sir Richard “Greedy” McCreadie (Steve Coogan), a twistedly successful, high-profile businessman whose accomplishments are working the system and lowballing everyone he does business with. We quickly get a sense of Greedy McCreadie through flashbacks to his unsavory business decisions in the retail industry (his empire rose through multiple failed businesses and a few seriously corrupt ones), interviews with family members and people he’s worked with, and a documentation of the days leading up to his 60th birthday party.

Sir Richard wants a birthday that reflects his favorite movie, “Gladiator,” and he wants it dripping with celebrities. In preparation for the big day, he has hired a construction crew to build an amphitheater in Mykonos, Greece, and an event planner (Dinita Gohil) to bear the brunt of his demands. The entire McCreadie family has gathered in preparation for the big day, including his mother (Shirley Henderson), the woman from whose cloth he was clearly cut; his tax-evading ex-wife, Samantha (Isla Fisher); his daughter, Lily (Sophie Cookson) and the cast of the reality show she is in (she and her “boyfriend” are constantly flanked by a camera crew); his son, Finn (Asa Butterfield), who does not get along with him at all; and the model hired to be his girlfriend for the party (Shanina Shaik). The entire family is entrenched in this charade of extravagance, and Greedy McCreadie, with his leathery suntan and blindingly white teeth, becomes an easy target for everyone’s hatred.

By the time the family has arrived, five days before the party, the amphitheater is only half-built. A group of Syrian refugees has taken up camp on the public beach, which Sir Richard complains is “right in the middle of our view.” Construction workers keep quitting because Sir Richard is paying them different day rates depending on what country they’re from. The film stacks circumstance upon circumstance, and the ensemble of cast members plays their parts well, leading us into this gaudy circus of excess and self-indulgence that keeps you laughing, cringing and shaking your head.

Winterbottom’s web of satire is a little delicate at times. Sometimes, the veil is a bit too transparent, and the political message of the film, while important, tends to overshadow the actual through-line of the story. Mitchell and Gohil’s characters attempt to steer the story toward its moral with their outsider perspective, but the maneuver is a bit clunky. The film still maintains its fun, and the message maintains its power and relevance, but the blending of the two is not as smooth as one would hope.

But it does make for a hell of a ride, and that’s what we need from a good satire. We need a moment to forget how accurate the story is to our own world. Once the credits roll and we step back out into the light of the lobby, we can connect with how true these characters are to the celebrities of our own society. But, until then, let’s just take comfort in the disaster that Michael Winterbottom has orchestrated for us to enjoy. If you are in the mood for a good satire, be sure to check out “Greed.”

“Greed” plays this month at Midtown Cinema, 250 Reily St., Harrisburg. For more information, visit www.midtowncinema.com.

FEBRUARY EVENTS
At Midtown Cinema

Red Carpet Party
Sunday, Feb. 9, 7 p.m.

Down in Front! Presents
“Space Mutiny” (1988)
Friday, Feb. 14, 9:30 p.m.

3rd in the Burg
“Airplane” (1970)
Friday, Feb. 21, 9:30 p.m.

Moviate Presents
“Rolling Stone—Life and Death of Brian Jones”
Sunday, Feb. 23, 7 p.m.

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