Raise the Curtain: This month, Gamut will debut its new theater.

October 30, 2015 | by Lori M. Myers

It takes a village, so the saying goes.

But in the case of Gamut Theatre, it took a village and volunteers and craftsmen and cash, as Harrisburg’s classic theater this month debuts its new, permanent home in the historic, former First Church of God, moving out of long-time rental space in downtown Strawberry Square right across the street.

The new theater will open with one main stage, but eventually will be home to two performance venues and more classrooms as it continues to expand both in show offerings and education programs.

“In addition, there will be a small stage in the reception lobby for poetry, singer/songwriter events and other smaller presentations,” said Melissa Nicholson, executive director of Gamut Theatre Group. “We are proud to preserve much of the original architecture and be caretakers for the rich history that accompanies it. It is, in my opinion, the perfect place to perform classic stories.”

Gamut relied on more than 150 volunteers (many with day jobs) who donated some 5,700 hours designing and constructing. The core company of actors worked nights and weekends since August to assure the theater will open on Nov. 5 for a private preview party for donors. On Nov. 6, there will be a ribbon cutting with Mayor Eric Papenfuse and an open house for the community. The next evening is the grand opening of the theater’s production of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night.”

To date, the theater has raised more than $1.3 million of the $2.5 million needed to complete the project—all of this without the aid of a professional fundraiser.

“We currently have an ask into the PA Redevelopment Assistance Capital Program to cover the Phase I gap in fundraising and to fund Phase II,” Nicholson said. “Phase II will develop the second stage/education center part of the building.”

“All the world’s a stage,” wrote Shakespeare. And, for Gamut, a new stage means a whole new world ahead.

The new Gamut Theatre is located at 15 N. 4^th St., Harrisburg. For more information, including how to make donations and buy tickets, call 717-238-4111 or visit www.gamuttheatre.org.

A Mission to Serve: The work of Tabernacle Baptist fills the belly–and the soul.

October 30, 2015 | by Susan Ryder

The peanut butter jar tumbled off the overflowing grocery bag, flipped on to the floor and bounced past Pastor Brown. With a duck and a scoop, he snagged it and returned it to the man holding the bag. The man acknowledged its return with a nod and a hearty “thank you.”

Tabernacle Baptist Church, located in the Fox Ridge Historic District not far from the Broad Street Market, has been serving the hungry in Harrisburg for 40 years. Each Thursday, the church helps feed about 70 people through its food pantry.

The congregation has a mission—to serve the community.

“God has called all of us to be servants, and we have a mission to serve others,” said Rev. Arthur Brown, church pastor for 10 years. “That is what I live and breathe for.”

Brown added that the church sees itself as a “community of servants, not just a community of church-goers.”

The food pantry distributes typical foodstuffs: canned goods, peanut butter and fresh produce. During distribution, volunteers help participants find low-cost health insurance, nursing students from HACC take blood pressures, and folks assist guests in finding heating cost assistance and affordable cell phones.

Along with these services, Tabernacle dishes out a healthy serving of love.

James, a pantry visitor, said that Tabernacle was “just so friendly, nice and helpful… they are open to everybody.” His partner nodded in agreement.

Pantry regulars who don’t show up for a while can expect a phone call, and anyone in the hospital can expect a visit.

“It turned more into a holistic ministry, more than providing very basic essentials,” said Brown, who refers to those who come to the food pantry as the “Thursday family.”

Fostering Relationships

Tabernacle doesn’t just distribute food, but cooks it.

For 12 years, congregation members have served about 300 home-cooked, traditional Thanksgiving meals to folks in the community, which they will do again this month.

Many of the meals are eaten at the church, but volunteers also deliver meals to people who are ill or shut in and to first responders, who must work on Thanksgiving. Deacon Gonzales Washington described the day like this: “Come in just like at home, enjoy yourself!” He said that guests can watch football on the television, eat and chat, just like in a family atmosphere.

Tabernacle leaders believe in fostering relationships among both worshippers and those within the community. The Fishers of Men Ministry works to connect men on a deeper level.

“Men have very superficial relationships, and men are hurting, suffering in silence,” said Brown.

Here, the men share what’s going on in their lives in a place of non-judgment. The group recently donated more than $1,000 to Bethesda Mission.

Past & Present

All of these services and all of this love happen in Tabernacle’s 1886 church building and attached 1897 parsonage, listed in the National Register of Historic Places.

A German Lutheran congregation built the original 1863 frame church. In 1967, a group of 89 people bought the building from the German congregation, forming the Tabernacle Baptist Mission, then the church.

The modified, Gothic-style brick building holds a three-story square bell tower, stone tracery arches and large, pointed arch windows.

Inside, the sanctuary contains an elaborately carved wooden altar, with a wooden screen, inside a shallow chancel arch. Ornamental gold imposts support the arch. The altar is flanked by lit stained glass windows depicting Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane and Jesus knocking at the door, a biblical reference to Revelation 3:20. The German inscription under this window says, “Gestiftet von ibren kindern,” which translates to “Donated by the children.” The heavy, dark, wooden pulpit sits centrally in front of the altar, because the word of God is central, explains Brown.

More evidence of the church’s German history exists in the original exterior stained glass windows, which contain German inscriptions acknowledging family sponsorships. Those families included the Henry Neideich Family, the Schaeffer family and Mr. & Mrs. Jacob Kehr. Some members of the former German congregation joined Tabernacle for worship when it celebrated its 150^th anniversary two years ago.

The congregation appreciates the history and architecture of the church, but, in some ways, the building limits its ministries. The fellowship hall, where the food pantry is located, is small with low ceilings; the parsonage rooms used for Sunday school and Vacation Bible School are tiny; staircases to the upstairs are steep and narrow. A chair lift provides the only access to the second-story sanctuary for physically challenged parishioners. This layout makes providing programs challenging. Brown said that the congregation finds itself “dialing back [its programs] to meet the space.”

The church recently received a grant to evaluate how it could update the building to better suit the needs of the community, while still maintaining the church’s historic nature. The plan, created by Harrisburg-based McKissick Associates, involves keeping the present building but reconfiguring and opening up the space.

Pastor Brown said a renovation would allow the church to “dream bigger because we have a bigger space.” It could develop new programs, expand programs and make existing programs more efficient, he said. And renovating, rather than moving, would allow the church to maintain its commitment to stay in the city. For now, the renovation plans in Brown’s office remain only a dream because the congregation lacks the funds to make it happen.

Renovation or not, Tabernacle will continue to do what it does. This congregation worships within a historic structure but lives very much in the present. Church members use an old building to feed, guide and comfort—compelled to serve—and endeavor to make a more positive present and future for those they encounter.

Tabernacle Baptist Church is located at 1106 Capital St., Harrisburg. To learn more, visit www.tabernaclebaptist.net.

Collateral Damage: Harrisburg’s revolving loan fund was supposed to spark business development. Decades later, the fund is dormant, and the city is still trying to figure out who owes what.

October 30, 2015 | by Paul Barker

It was, as others observed at the time, a kind of public shaming. The administration of Mayor Linda Thompson, at a time when Harrisburg was on the brink of financial collapse, released a list of businesses that owed the city money.

A bakery that borrowed $175,000 in 2009 and soon closed without making a single payment. A bar that got a $160,000 loan in 2005, shut down after running afoul of the law, and never paid back a $150,000 balance—even after its owner won $1 million in the lottery. A downtown restaurant and jazz club that got almost a quarter-million in 1990 and has been in and out of default ever since, having paid back less than a sixth of what it borrowed more than two decades earlier.

They had all received money under a city loan program started under former Mayor Stephen Reed and strongly critiqued by the Thompson administration. “There was not a proactive approach to collecting delinquent loans,” Jack Robinson, then head of the Department of Building and Housing Development, said in 2012. Thompson’s successor, Mayor Eric Papenfuse, questioned the program, too—a year before running for office, he suggested its origins fit into a pattern of “secretive, unsupervised spending” under Reed.

And yet, after more than five years of successive initiatives to improve collections and enable a new round of loans, the city has made little progress. Program records remain incomplete or missing. The city’s security filings with the state, which ensure a creditor’s priority in the event a business declares bankruptcy, have been allowed to expire. With rare exception, businesses that collectively owed $850,000 in past-due payments in July of 2011 have not made a payment since. As of this past July, the total overdue amount owed to the city was $1.1 million—money that could have been used to help fund new enterprises or perhaps even, because of its source, been spent on a variety of non-business projects citywide.

When a government makes economic development loans, past program officials say, they should be expected to default at a higher rate than what might be found in the private sector. “Remember, you’re taking the next-tier loans,” said Jeffrey Schaffer, who headed Harrisburg’s economic development office in the 1990s. “You want to take the ones that don’t quite make it.” The program targeted speculative or risky projects that traditional investors were reluctant to fund. “They’re coming to the city because the city is the last possible resort,” said Kathy Possinger, whose department briefly oversaw the program during the first months of the Thompson administration. “The potential for default is pretty high.”

In many cases, however, the city appears to have increased the risk of loss with its own policies. For several years, the program operated without the involvement of an independent review committee, which had previously vetted prospective borrowers. Many of the now-delinquent loans were made in years where there was no committee oversight. Jeff Baltimore, a City Council member who was a deputy director in the city’s economic development office in the late 1990s, said the loan policies could be “very uncomfortable.” He told the story of one large loan that Reed described at a meeting as “self-amortizing.” The term normally refers to a loan, like a mortgage, where the principal is gradually paid off over the life of the loan. But the mayor was describing something more like a grant—a loan that would be forgiven if the business stayed in town five years.

The Papenfuse administration has said it is pursuing delinquent accounts and reviewing its legal options. Jackie Parker, director of the Department of Community and Economic Development, which now oversees the loan portfolio, said the city sends notices each month to businesses with past-due loan payments. “The approach is review, find out what our standing is, and then go after them legally,” Parker said. “I don’t know about the shaming method.” But Papenfuse, when I asked him about the delinquent accounts, said the city had limited expectations. “In order to collect on some of these loans, it would take a legal strategy and a deployment of legal resources which the city can neither afford nor has the capacity to do at the present moment,” he said. Given the costs of trying to collect the money, and the odds that, in many cases, there is nothing to collect, he said he is not sure the investment would yield a worthwhile return.

The longer-term goal, Parker said, is to start lending again, with a particular emphasis on moderate-sized loans—less than $50,000—to smaller businesses. If the city is going to go back into the banking business, it’s worth asking what can be learned from the first time around.

…

The city’s original revolving loan program was created in 1984. It was termed “revolving” because it was meant to be self-perpetuating: payments from early borrowers would provide the funding for future loans. A five-person loan review committee, with two members from financial institutions and three from the business community, would approve or reject loan applicants at public meetings. At least a fifth of the loans, by dollar amount, were to go to minority-owned businesses and at least 5 percent to businesses owned by women.

The program’s initial seed money came from federal block grants, according to a budget approved by City Council. But in March 1990, Reed issued an executive order creating a second “special projects” loan program. According to the order, federal grant guidelines were too limiting; the program rules were “appropriate and applicable to some types of economic development projects but not all opportunities related to City economic development.” Among other things, Reed wanted to increase the maximum loan amount from $100,000 to $250,000 and relax a job creation requirement. The order said the mayor’s office would create its own rules for this second program, although the same staff and review committee approved the loans. “The mayor was very hands-off,” Jeffrey Schaffer said.

The source of funding for the “special projects” loans would later become a point of controversy. In the spring of 1990, the city sold its water system to a related government entity, the Harrisburg Authority. In a series of executive orders, Reed dictated how the city would spend around $7 million in proceeds from the sale. He hoped to set aside $4 million for the special projects loan program. In February 1992, a group of residents sued Reed, claiming that City Council alone had the power to spend the money. In an opinion more than four years later, Dauphin County Judge Joseph Kleinfelter agreed. By then, the question of who should spend the money was moot—it had all either already been spent or moved back under council’s control. But Kleinfelter sided with the residents on the question of law, writing that Reed should have known better from a prior decision. Though Reed may have “had the best interests of the City in mind,” Kleinfelter wrote, “it is always a serious matter when a city official disregards a judicial ruling and yields to Machiavellian precepts in assuming authority which is not vested in him.”

For all that, the first round of big-ticket loans seemed to fit within the description of economic development. In 1991, in one of his executive orders, Reed had referred to a “high need” for the loans “during a time of national economic recession hallmarked by tightened commercial bank and other lender credit.” A development company owned by a man named Douglas Russell got a $250,000 loan to renovate a Herr Street building into offices and apartments. A married couple, Sandra Buckley-Rusnov and her husband Cornelius, got a $350,000 loan to build houses along Rudy Road. Richard Engle, who owned a company called Central Business Systems, received $250,000 to relocate to S. 13^th Street. “We were competing for businesses,” Schaffer said. “A business might be looking at locating in either Harrisburg or Lemoyne. Well, did Lemoyne have a revolving loan program?”

Minutes from the first two years of loan committee meetings reveal little about how applicants were vetted. Occasionally members tabled a vote, asking for further documentation from an applicant. Here and there, a note might reflect a requirement to create a certain number of jobs or record that the loan was contingent on additional financing from other sources. But for the most part, city staff simply recommended a loan be made, and the committee unanimously approved. Schaffer recalled a time when some reporters showed up to watch a meeting, and afterwards asked him, “Is that it?” “I don’t know what they were expecting, but it wasn’t very exciting,” he said. The companies’ financial records, which were deemed proprietary, were not made public. But aside from that, Schaffer said, the committee “was very transparent.”

Nonetheless, some wondered whether the loans might reflect political influence or favoritism. In September 1991, the Patriot-News wrote about the number of Reed campaign donors who received either loans or grants out of the proceeds of the water system sale. Russell, the Herr Street developer, had given $100 to the Reed campaign; Engle, of Central Business Systems, had given $350. Those amounts might seem small; in fact, one impression you get from the article is that, for a certain period in Harrisburg, the unusual thing was not to donate to Reed’s campaign. (According to the report, Schaffer himself had given $700.) Reed, for his part, told the paper there had been “no undue influence and no action taken by these boards based on political mayoral intervention.”

Still, it’s hard not to wonder about the provenance of some of the program’s early loans. In 1995, the city loaned $250,000 to James Pianka, at the time a city magistrate, to construct batting cages on City Island. The loan came with a 25-year term and a 2-percent interest rate, at a time when the national prime rate was between 8 and 9 percent. Schaffer said he had initially come up with the batting cage idea himself, but that after speaking with the mayor, he had concluded it would be improper for a city employee to have a concession in a city park. He said Reed later asked if Pianka could develop the project instead. (Pianka, after saying he didn’t know who Schaffer was, declined to answer questions for this story.)

Pianka “was always appreciative,” Schaffer said, though he added that the business “could easily have failed.” He suggested that those who saw overly generous terms didn’t understand the business risks. “People said, ‘He got it because he was a magistrate.’ No, he got it because he had the idea and put up the collateral.” Pianka, who still owns the batting cages, continues to make a $1,200 payment each month. He is one of only a handful of recipients current on their loans.

…

Another of the up-to-date borrowers is Char Magaro. In 2007, Magaro took out a $135,000 city loan to buy a liquor license for Bella Mundo, a fine-dining restaurant in Shipoke. (The restaurant has since relocated to Front Street, as Char’s Tracy Mansion.) She found the application process and the terms—10 years at 4-percent interest—to be “very reasonable.” “They didn’t put me through too many hoops,” she said. The loan was a safe bet, in part, because the liquor license was pledged as collateral. “Liquor licenses are self-collateralizing,” Magaro said. “They have value.”

The city has nearly twice as many delinquent loans as current—25 to 13. In a way, though, it’s remarkable the city has any current accounts at all. In 2010, a consulting firm called Management Partners published an audit of Harrisburg government, as part of an early intervention during a period of mounting financial distress. Included in their report was a survey of the loan program, whose portfolio at the time encompassed more than 60 small-business loans totaling almost $7 million. Or so they believed. According to the report, the city “was unable to provide the exact amount of outstanding loans,” and other information about the program could not be verified. “The fact that they’re making loans to people and don’t have records of it is a problem,” Jerry Newfarmer, one of the consultants who worked on the report, told me recently. “That makes no sense to me.”

The recordkeeping problem seems to date to late 2009 and early 2010, during the transition from the Reed to the Thompson administration. The Mayor’s Office of Economic Development, which had previously overseen the loan program, was dissolved, and the loan portfolio was merged into the Department of Building and Housing Development. The staff did not follow. Linda Walker, a deputy director in MOED who closely oversaw the loan program for many years, told me that was politics—when you took a supervisory position under one mayor, you could expect to leave when the seat changed hands. “Linda Thompson wanted everyone gone, and that was the end of the program,” she said. (Ed Nielsen, MOED’s director at the time, described the transition somewhat differently. He suggested the decision to dissolve MOED started with Reed, who “didn’t see any need for a cabinet-level department like that”; he believed the rationale had been, “Thompson was gonna kill the program anyways, we might as well close it down.”)

Walker starting working for the city in 1985. To this day, she stands by the loan program’s accomplishments. “We were proud of the fact that we could create so many businesses,” she said. She described the loan criteria, and particularly the rules for securing collateral, as strong. “You have to dig deep sometimes to find collateral,” she said, but the city always got a lien on something—buildings, equipment, accounts receivable, liquor licenses. Walker felt the program opened the door to entrepreneurs, especially women and people of color. “Back in the day, minority- and female-owned businesses couldn’t get a loan from the downtown banks,” she said. When she would talk to people in the community, she kept hearing the same complaint: “lack of capital, lack of capital.”

Walker said the loan files were kept in accordion folders, and were voluminous, with some businesses having two or three folders of material. They were stored in a set of lateral cabinets on the fourth floor, which people often mistook for a dividing wall between MOED and the neighboring offices of the Redevelopment Authority. A couple of months after she resigned, she said, she went to city hall to meet some former colleagues for lunch and saw the cabinets were empty. According to Walker, Thompson accused Walker and her colleagues of taking them. She said she got calls from the district attorney asking if she knew where they were. She denied having anything to do with it. “What the hell would I do with loan files?” she asked me. “We left everything there.” Indeed, Kathy Possinger, who stayed on as acting director of the housing department for several months in 2010, said the former MOED staff had been diligent in closing down and transferring their programs. “Everything we needed to know about—hot files, hot topics—we knew about,” Possinger said. She said that the Thompson administration rearranged many things in city hall upon arriving, and that they may have relocated the loan files.

Neil Grover, the city solicitor, told me recently that he suspects there are more files at city hall than people think. The rumor that files were deliberately removed or destroyed “is, frankly, scurrilous,” he said. “That’s accusing someone of a fairly significant crime.” But there are undeniably problems with the records the city does possess. “We have what we have,” Jackie Parker, the economic development director, told me. “But the files are not uniform. Not everybody has collateral. Not everybody had a recorded mortgage. Not everybody had signed papers. And obviously, if they hadn’t signed it before, they aren’t signing it now.”

The program has suffered from other lapses. The committee that used to review the loans has been defunct since 2005. Nielsen, the former MOED director, said that the committee’s dissolution, for him, marked “a real seminal moment figuring out how things work in la-la land.” According to his account, Reed, having concluded he wouldn’t be able to push any nominees through City Council, simply told the office to keep making loans without a committee. Nielsen asked Linda Thompson, then council president, about it. “That was the oddest part—Reed saying council won’t approve anything, and then the conversation with Linda Thompson right after, verifying it,” he said. As mayor, Thompson tried to restart the committee, successfully appointing three members. One of them, a banker named Brittany Brock, told me they met several times to review things like underwriting and eligibility guidelines. But the effort went nowhere, in part because of a lack of direction from the administration. “It just didn’t go,” she said.

With few exceptions, loan clients currently on the books as delinquent stopped paying sometime after Reed left office. This doesn’t account for loans supposedly written off, which reportedly totaled $1 million or more, though confirmation is hard to come by. Grover, the city solicitor, said he had yet to verify that any loans were officially forgiven. “I’m not sure who would have that authority,” he said.

In the case of non-real estate collateral, the city, as a creditor, is also required to renew certain filings with the state every five years, under what’s known as the uniform commercial code. These UCC filings preserve the priority of the city’s claim in the event a business liquidates or goes bankrupt. According to state records, all of the city’s filings on its loan portfolio have expired, some as recently as this year. Juliet Moringiello, a professor of bankruptcy law at Widener Commonwealth Law School, told me that, when a UCC filing lapses, it’s not that a creditor loses all rights to its collateral. It’s more that it loses its place in line with other creditors. “There’s a big burden of monitoring on the lender in the code,” she said. When I told her the city’s claims had all expired, she was astonished. “That is insane,” she said.

…

Jeffrey Schaffer, who now works on economic development in the Pittsburgh office of U.S. Rep. Mike Doyle, urged me not to think of a loan program’s default rate as the only measure of its success. “There’s a return that isn’t in the books,” he said. A business that fails may nonetheless have brought benefits while it lasted—as a provider of jobs, as encouragement for other investment, even as just a presence on a struggling block. “It helped a lot of people,” he said of the city’s program.

One of the delinquent accounts is held by Steve Pearlman, who sells vintage clothes and 1950s- and ‘60s-era antiques and furniture out of a store on Market Street called Atomic Warehouse. In the early 2000s, the city gave him $60,000 in loans to help finance the renovation of his building, which had previously been vacant and in deep disrepair. “It was horrendous,” he told me. The store now has a bright, teal-colored façade and a retro-looking logo splashed over the door.

As a delinquent borrower, Atomic Warehouse makes an interesting case. Pearlman’s last payment was in 2011, and he is $35,000 in arrears. Even if he pays it all back, as he says he plans to do—he wouldn’t go into details, although there’s a for-sale sign in front of the store—he won’t have been the perfect client. Yet he has stayed open for 13 years on a block that has since seen incremental development.

From another perspective, though, a promise is a promise. Another of the city’s loan clients I spoke with was Matt Tunnell, who, along with his business partner John Tierney, bought the Midtown Cinema on Reily Street in 2008. As part of the purchase, they took over what was then a delinquent $350,000 city loan.

The loan, which is now in good standing, makes an interesting case of its own. “I feel stupid,” Tunnell joked, when I asked him about it. “We’re paying our loan, and no one else is!” But, he added seriously, the cinema was actually happy to pay it off. “That was always part of the revitalization, to pay our obligations and then maybe see it circle back to other businesses,” he said. He gave credit to the original owners, who “poured hours and hours” into the venture at a time when investing in the area was much less certain. “They were trying to jump start Reily Street,” he told me. “They were really the pioneers.”

In the Key of C-ommunity: Music, friendship play well together at the West Shore Symphony.

October 30, 2015 | by Barbara Trainin Blank

Martha Palmquist is a very busy person.

New to the West Shore, she has three young children and teaches preschool music. However, in her limited free time, she still wanted to pursue her passion for music on a more adult level.

That’s when the French horn player discovered the West Shore Symphony Orchestra.

Palmquist started out as a substitute and has been a regular member for less than a year, now playing a part in such works as Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony.

Nonetheless, she also cherished the memory of taking her horn into the audience during a WSSO Family Concert so the kids could see the instrument up close before playing “Twinkle, Twinkle” for them.

“It was something so simple, but it made the kids and their parents light up,” Palmquist said.

Indeed, professional ensembles don’t have a monopoly on quality classical music. Throughout the country, community orchestras play a vital role in exposing people to classical music, while giving local musicians an outlet for their talents.

The West Shore Symphony presents three masterworks concerts a year, each preceded by a family concert, at Carlisle Theatre (40 W. High St.). In addition, its summer pops concerts, held at various venues around central Pennsylvania, provide programs of light classical music, patriotic and Broadway tunes.

Welcoming, Rewarding
WSSO’s members, all volunteers, are diverse in experience and background.

Barb Lambdin began playing viola with the orchestra in 1987.

“A friend said, ‘There’s a community orchestra [out there]. You should come and play,’” recalled Lambdin, a Suzuki method teacher.

Lambdin found the ensemble “very welcoming” and musically rewarding. One highlight occurred when WSSO played the Beethoven Triple Concerto with the prestigious Eaken Trio.

About 16 years ago, Lee Sarka came on board as a trumpeter and today is chair of the orchestra’s board, though by day he provides X-rays and MRI studies to orthopedic surgeons.

“Before, I had been pretty exclusively involved in bands and wind ensembles,” Sarka said. “Many times the music performed emphasized fast and ‘loud’ playing. I look to orchestral compositions as a way to round out my playing abilities.”

They also allow him to become more familiar with, and appreciate, the vast repertoire of classical music.

But the orchestra is also special because it’s a “community of players, who have become outside-of-symphony friends,” said Sarka. “The longevity of many of our players is truly indicative of how much being a member means to them.”

WSSO has always incorporated social activities, such as picnics and potluck dinners—so players get to know each other.

“I look forward to Monday night rehearsals for many reasons,” said Lambdin. “But I’ve especially enjoyed making friends within the group. People with different backgrounds all come together to make good music.”

Special Honor
The musicians’ enthusiasm is matched by that of Matthew Hooper, who was invited to take on the role of the orchestra’s music director and conductor, replacing Dr. Timothy Dixon, in the spring of 2012.

A Camp Hill native, he received his undergraduate training at Lebanon Valley College and later studied at Ball State University in Muncie, Ind.

“I had been applying to groups all over the United States, but it was an honor to have the opportunity to work with musicians so close to my hometown,” said Hooper, who is also a conducting fellow at the professional Allentown Symphony.

A special honor came recently when Hooper announced that the orchestra had been selected as one of the semi-finalists in the community orchestra ensemble division of The American Prize, a set of annual national competitions celebrating excellence in the arts.

Hooper, too, was chosen as a semi-finalist in the community orchestra conducting division.

“Right now, we’re waiting for the next announcement, which will tell us whether we’re finalists or not,” he said. “The winners and runners-up are chosen from among the finalists.”

The American Prize is more than monetary. Semi-finalists, finalists and winners are announced to national arts media and are profiled on the website. They also may use The American Prize logo and official seal on printed programs, documents and the web.

All Ages
Like every arts organization, WSSO is concerned with building future audiences.

The family concerts are free and open to the public, with WSSO Education Director Carrie Seefeldt and Hooper serving as hosts.

“The concerts are kid-friendly, 45 minutes long, featuring excerpts from the pieces that will be performed at the next day’s masterworks concert,” said Hooper. “We encourage children to get hands-on with the music. We bring them and their parents to the front of the theater, where they do different activities—such as dancing, or arts and crafts. They don’t have to sit still.”

Children seem particularly enthused when Hooper demonstrates conducting.

“With the ‘New World Symphony,’ for example, we really got them to feel the music,” he said. “We want to inspire children to be interested in classical music at as young an age as possible.”

One audience member told Hooper that his three grandchildren asked him to put on classical music, because they “wanted to conduct like Matthew.”

The next family concert takes place Saturday, Nov. 14.

The next day’s masterworks concert, subtitled “The Titan,” will include an overture to be announced—in a side-by-side performance with the Northern York High School Orchestra—and Mahler’s Symphony No. 1 in D Major.

“The concerts we present with student musicians are very fulfilling for our musicians and the students alike,” said Hooper. “They’re a great way to have students see they can continue making music following graduation from high school and college, even if they don’t have a [professional] career in music. They also contribute to their musical development.”

With the Mahler work as a case in point, Hooper noted that WSSO’s musicians “love to be challenged.”

“When I came in as music director, I was specifically asked not to program arrangements of pieces,” he said. “The orchestra wants to play the true orchestral pieces by the great composers.”

Hooper also champions new music. This year, WSSO will present Timothy Robertson’s “Concerto for Electric Guitar and Orchestra” at its May concert. The piece was commissioned by WSSO, which is “another first” for the orchestra.

“It will be very exciting and combine traditional acoustic sounds with electric (guitar) sounds,” he said.

How do audiences respond to new music?

That depends on how it’s approached, Hooper said. One way is through the talks he presents before each masterworks concert, focusing on stories about the music, biographies of the composers, and “sometimes even interesting gossip about them.”

If nothing else, audience members get to experience a piece of music they may have never heard before or one rarely played.

One example is Charles Ives’s “Variations on America,” which the orchestra played in 2013. It has some combinations of sounds the audience definitely wasn’t used to.

“Many thought the music was very interesting and wanted to hear it again,” Hooper said. “Some, I think, were startled, and could have been turned off by the strange sounds. But that’s the interesting thing about art. It evokes a reaction and wakes something in us that we did not experience before.”

Playing a Part
The West Shore Symphony Orchestra rehearses in the Camp Hill area on Monday evenings, 7:30 to 9:30 p.m.

Currently, the symphony is looking for string players; there are a few anticipated openings for woodwinds and brass players.

For membership and other information, visit www.westshoresymphony.org.

Waste Not This Opportunity: Together, we can beautify our city while building our community.

October 30, 2015 | by Kathryn J. Sandoe

Of late, there has been considerable attention on the subject of waste in Harrisburg.

From revisiting past transgressions about the mismanagement of a waste incinerator, to the perpetual trouble of illegal dumping that continues to plague local neighborhoods, to the ongoing debate on how best to facilitate the city’s sanitation program, waste has been on the minds and tongues of many.

When reported in the news, opined in magazines and blogs or peppered among daily conversations, much of the dialogue positions waste in a negative context. And in some cases, rightly so.

Still, what if waste itself wasn’t the issue? Rather, that these assumed problems derive from how we think about waste and how then we act upon those thoughts.

Consider, for a moment, that waste can actually provide an opportunity to make great things happen in our community. That it can bring people together to connect, collaborate and create—all with the aim of keeping our city clean and beautiful. That it can represent the hope of Harrisburg transformed. This is possible if we change the way we think about waste.

Two valuable, local initiatives come to mind that exemplify this view in action: 2Minute Tuesday and The Great Harrisburg Litter Cleanup.

Many of us are familiar with the 2Minute Tuesday call to action, which asks residents and businesses to invest two minutes each Tuesday to clean up their outside space. This movement demonstrates an important philosophical position: We all create waste, and as such, we all bear a responsibility for its end. The 2Minute Tuesday mantra also illustrates how individual action contributes to greater community pride. The effort of one person, one business or one organization may not appear to make much headway. But, in concert with others, the results can be remarkable.

Then consider The Great Harrisburg Litter Cleanup, a collaborative event where hundreds of volunteers converge on one day, each year, to clean up city streets, sidewalks and other public green spaces. Literally, tons of trash and other littered items are collected by passionate, inspired and committed people who believe in honoring the past, present and future vitality of the capital city. They represent the optimism and action that propel this community forward.

In both examples, waste was not the problem, per se. Rather, it was the consequence of intentional action by people. Where one group viewed something as no longer holding value and indecorously discarded the item to the detriment of their community, others saw the opportunity to make their neighborhood better. Still, there is a silent number who act simply by their non-participation, viewing the “problem” of litter and trash as not their own.

How different are these multifarious perspectives on waste from other challenges we face in Harrisburg? Where one sees waste, the other sees value. Where one perceives hardships, the other envisions opportunities. And some choose to turn a blind eye. All act—one group detracts from progress, another transforms and the third disregards the situation altogether.

The question then remains, how do you think about waste? When you see a piece of trash on the street or sidewalk, will you pick it up or ignore it? When you see an illegal dumpsite, will you continue to pass by or will you collaborate with various stakeholders to plan a cleanup event and empower others in the neighborhood to keep it clean and beautiful?

How do you think about other challenges that Harrisburg faces? And how will you act? This is a principled question we must all ask ourselves.

The following quote by novelist and screenwriter Eric Knight so poignantly frames this perspective: “Waste not the smallest thing created, for grains of sand make mountains, and atomies infinity.”

Knight’s words challenge us to think differently about the world, about our community, about the way we think and about how we act. In the context of waste, how many opportunities do we let slip by because we think of waste as a problem, rather than a resource? Whether it’s repurposed for a new use, recycled into a new product or converted into renewable energy that provides green power to the local community, waste is a resource for our community. It’s about perspective.

So together…

Let us waste not time ruminating on things long past, but create, plan and work together towards a brighter future for Harrisburg.

Let us waste not energy on pointing out all that’s deficient, but invest our time and resources into the continued revitalization of this capital city.

Let us waste not the chance to make a difference in our neighborhoods. Where we see a need, let us each be the solution.

Harrisburg, let us waste not the smallest thing. For these sands of opportunity and progress will be the future mountains of change and transformation in this amazing town.

Kathryn J. Sandoe is communications manager for the Lancaster County Solid Waste Management Authority, a community publisher of TheBurg.

Independent Minded: In a tough business, local indie bookstores have survived through a mix of expertise, service and community.

October 30, 2015 | by Don Helin

“The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”

That famous quote, attributed to Mark Twain, kept flashing through my mind as I interviewed the owners of six independent bookstores throughout central Pennsylvania. After all, these bookshops were, by now, supposed to be gone, kaput, dumped into the ash heap of history, right?

That’s been the common wisdom as e-books increasingly have caught on with readers. But, today, a handful of indie booksellers in our area have not only survived, but thrived.

How did they do it? What’s their secret? I wanted to find out.

Mechanicsburg Mystery Bookshop

In the book world, Debbie Beamer is the definition of a survivor as, on Nov. 9, her Mystery Bookshop in Mechanicsburg will celebrate 25 years in business.

“Members of my core group of customers still want to hold a book,” said Beamer, citing one of the factors in her success.

Beamer is always thinking of ways to add value to her shop and, earlier this year, added a lecture series—talks on Native Americans, the Revolutionary War and John Wilkes Booth, among other topics. She even threw in a class on psychokinesis.

As a specialty bookseller, Beamer may have an advantage over more general stores, as mystery book readers tend to be loyal and exacting. They appreciate her selection and knowledge, as well as the environment she’s created.

“The indies provide a community for their customers,” said Beamer. “Bookstores are a gathering place where readers can meet authors, listen to lectures and so much more.”

Sam Marcus

The Bookworm Bookstore

As I sat across the table from Sam Marcus at the Bookworm Bookstore in Lemoyne, I saw the glint in his eye when he talked about books and found it easy to visualize the college professor he once was.

But it takes more than a love for the written word to survive these days in such a difficult business. Like Beamer, Marcus has a specialty. In his case, it’s classics, literature and history.

“So, the type of books I sell aren’t conducive to e-books,” he said.

Marcus doesn’t shy away from the Internet, as about half of his sales are online, supplementing his brick-and-mortar shop. But he offers things you just can’t get from Amazon or even the large chains—knowledge and quality.

“I couple this approach with individual services for my customers,” he said. “It’s paramount to learn their likes and dislikes and be able to offer suggestions of books they might enjoy reading.”

Marcus is so confident in his shop that he’s even setting the stage for his retirement.

“My children are playing a larger role in the store management,” he said.

Canaday’s Book Barn

Ted Canaday is another area bookseller who has thrived due to that special formula of knowledge, customer service and quality, as well as having a niche.

“I specialize in out-of-print books, as well as historic maps and charts, so my customers aren’t after the latest bestseller,” said Canaday, owner of the Book Barn in Carlisle. “The market for me is distant and diffuse, my customers coming from as far away as 100 miles.”

Canaday does much of his business on the Internet, so the e-book craze was not a problem, he said. He usually finds his books at estate sales or has customers bring the books to him.

For Canaday, the key is having what his customers want when they arrive, then turning them into repeat customers.With more than 70,000 books, maps and charts, the Book Barn is indeed a fascinating place to shop, attracting people who want a different kind of buying experience.

“I’m actually more like an antique shop than your average bookstore,” he said.

Aaron’s Books

Ten years ago, Todd Dickinson and his wife, Sam, opened Aaron’s Books, naming it for their son. They wanted to have a business together and do something that Aaron would learn to love.

Soon afterwards, e-books went from afterthought to mass market, but the Dickinsons rose to the challenge, leveraging their strength as an integral part of the community in Lititz.

“The rise of e-books was arguably harder on chain stores,” said Todd. “So, that created an opportunity for independent bookstores to grow because of our closeness to the community.”

The Dickinsons didn’t let e-books change the kind of store they wanted to be. As independents, they’re highly responsive to their customers and stock new and used books that you simply won’t find inside grocery or box stores.

“We enjoy helping people find that book they’re going to love,” said Todd. “We just celebrated our 10th anniversary and look forward to many more in downtown Lititz.”

Michelle Haring

Cupboard Maker Books

Michelle and Jason Haring opened a custom-built furniture and bookstore in February 1998. In the spring of 2002, Michelle left her teaching job and made the decision to sell books exclusively.

Over the years, the couple adapted to the market, selling books over the Internet, as well as inside their Enola shop. But what’s really kept them going has been their loyal customer base for genre fiction.

“We carry all types of books, including history, religion, science, military, cookbooks and children’s books,” said Michelle. “However, our main interest area is genre fiction, especially mystery, science fiction and romance.”

This past year, they have focused more on author- and book-centered events. They currently have several genre fiction book clubs,including mystery, romance, young adult and urban fantasy. This past fall, they started “Book Mingles,” which provides a place for book lovers to talkto other book lovers.

“We see continued growth,” said Michelle. “The personal touch is what our customers are looking for.”

Catherine Lawrence

Midtown Scholar Bookstore

When you walk into Midtown Scholar Bookstore in Harrisburg, you immediately see the ornate coffee bar and watch people gathered around tables drinking lattes and socializing.

You then realize that diversification and community are essential parts of the story at Midtown Scholar, owned by Catherine Lawrence and her husband Eric Papenfuse, who now doubles up as the city’s mayor.

“We are honored to be one of the leaders in our neighborhood’s resurgence,” said Lawrence.

In fact, the brick-and-mortar location is the physical manifestation of the store’s main business, selling academic books online.

“We’re the largest scholarly used bookstore in the country,” said Lawrence. “That continues to be our special niche.”

Looking at the shelves and shelves of books in the store, it’s hard to visualize the beginning.

“I can remember sitting in our walk-up book store in the old post office, a block from the Midtown Cinema, with my foot rocking my infant son in his carrier,” said Lawrence. “Below me, our Internet staff was logging the latest tractor-trailer load of books from scholastic publishers into our computers. At that time, we already had seven public storage units stacked floor to ceiling with books we were selling online, as well as an annex in Allison Hill.”

As the Internet division outgrew its first-floor space, the retail operation took over that area with books, as well. That gave them the ability to hold concerts, author talks and public forums. They needed an even larger space for literary activities when people came from as far as Baltimore and New York to participate, and that’s when they bought the larger building across from the Broad Street Market.

Today, Midtown Scholar is an important community asset, hosting a myriad of events each month, including author talks, book clubs, concerts and children’s activities, none of which can be replicated well in a virtual way.

The couple plans a further expansion into another annex to make way for more books. The main store then will be able to offer an even broader range of new, used and rare titles to customers, including more children and young adult offerings.

So, as you begin to do your Christmas shopping this year, stop in at one of these independent bookstores. Who knows—you may just make a life-long book friend. After all, community is the secret of what makes these stores go.

If You Go

Aaron’s Books, 35 E. Main St., Lititz, 717-627-1990, www.aaronsbooks.com

The Bookworm Bookstore, 900 Market St. (West Shore Farmer’s Market), Lemoyne, 717-657-8563, www.bookwormhbg.com

Canaday’s Book Barn, 2269 Newville Rd, Carlisle, PA, 717-574-0092, www.canadaysbookbarn.com

Cupboard Maker Books, 157 N. Enola Rd., Route 11/15, Enola, 717-732-7288, www.cupboardmaker.com

Mechanicsburg Mystery Bookshop, 6 Clouser Rd., Mechanicsburg, 717-795-7470,
www.mysterybooksonline.com

Midtown Scholar Bookstore, 1302 N. 3rd St., Harrisburg, 717-236-1680, www.midtownscholar.com

Don Helin published his first thriller, “Thy Kingdom Come,” in 2009. His novel, “Devil’s Den,” was selected as a finalist in the 2013 Indie Book Awards. His latest thriller, “Secret Assault,” was selected as the best suspense/thriller at the 2015 Indie Book Awards. Contact Don on his website, www.donhelin.com.

Practice Safe Tux: Holiday season is black tie season.

October 30, 2015 | by Dave Marcheskie

Where do I put my studs? What’s a cummerbund? Most guys remember nervously navigating that first encounter with the one-night stand floozy of the wardrobe world—the rental tuxedo.

Prom. Groomsman. Groom.

At best, men used to only wear a tuxedo as many times as Jason Pierre-Paul has fingers (Google with caution).

Days of formal wear are changing.

Between the tryptophan overdose and cranberry-sauce coma is that holiday invitation staring back at you with that ominous phrase—“black tie optional.”

This is a trap.

If the invitation either comes from work or is related to an event with your significant other (i.e. New Year’s Eve), the black tie option is your option.

To avoid sartorial diseases like saggy crotch, crooked clip-on or the epidemic of itchy polyester lining, a man must embrace the committed relationship of his own monogamous trophy suit.

Which tuxedo is right for me?

Pick a color. We live in an age where retro is in. This means vintage hues of midnight blue from the ‘50s, burgundy velvet smoking jackets from the ‘60s, or even white dinner jackets from the ‘20s are acceptable alternatives to black. No five-button Mandarins, please (I wore that to prom circa 2001).

Tuxedos are distinguished by the grosgrain silk jacket lapels and stripe down the pant. This formal style was made infamous in America by the son of a real estate mogul at the Tuxedo Park resort in New York in 1886. Traditional English coattails got in the way of him turning down for what, so he asked his tailor to clip ‘em.

Tuxedos should be sleek, not stuffy. If you’re a slender guy, a peak lapel helps broaden the shoulders. Shawl collars help broad-shouldered guys streamline. Fellas with post-Thanksgiving heft should go with a one-button notch. This creates a slimming, deep-V look.

The most important part is getting your tuxedo tailored. Boxy rentals can cost upwards of $200 or more without wedding group deals. You can surely buy a $90 to $125 tux online (Buy4less Tuxedos or Fine Tuxedos). With a nip-and-tuck from the tailor, you saved money and practiced safe tux.

Strictly Tuxedos and Top Shelf Menswear are two great local brick-and-mortar options to get your penguin on.

They didn’t teach Fancy Newsman 101 in broadcast journalism school. Little did I know that I would have a handful of charity galas and award ceremonies to attend every year, which has led me to own three different tuxedos. #AnchorProbs

I learned a few tricks along the way to make my tuxedos appear to be different every time.

Wearing black-and-white shoes, a velvet bow tie or a bright pocket square are great ways to show personality while keeping everything else simple. Always choose a high-shine patent leather shoe unless you can find tuxedo slippers. Bonus points for traditional skull or monogram embroidery.

Back to that cummerbund. The pleated silk waistband was a way to hold tickets or “catch-crumbs”—cummerbund. Today, it can be a dude’s version of Spanx. The cummerbund can help flatten the stomach’s appearance and keep any shirt overflow bottled up.

Grab a laydown spread collar shirt with hidden buttons instead of the ribbed wing collar shirts usually worn by country club bartenders.

Fellas, look up YouTube for step-by-step directions on how to tie your own bowtie. Ditch the clip-ons!

Sure, there is nothing wrong with wearing a red sweater and khakis to your holiday party this year. And the midnight kiss is what she really cares about when the strawberry drops. But if you want to cement the year that was or kick off the new one right—just think, WWJBD?

“There are dinner jackets and dinner jackets; this is the latter.” When was the last time 007 didn’t get the girl while donning a tux?

And, speaking of Bond, give this a try:

“Vesper”

½ oz vodka
2 oz dry gin
¼ oz Lillet Blonde

Stir on ice until chilled. Strain into a coupe glass and garnish with lemon peel. Drink like James Bond, feel like James Bond.

Our Sharp Press Man, Dave Marcheskie, is a reporter and anchor for abc27 News. If you’d like to ask Dave a question, please email it to [email protected]. He may use it in a future column.

This column is sponsored by Top Shelf Menswear. Check out their new location in the State Street Plaza, 829 State St., Unit 1009, Lemoyne, 717-770-2080. www.topshelfmenswear.com

The Net Appears: Brett Bernardini takes a leap and lands at Theatre Harrisburg.

October 30, 2015 | by Lori M. Myers

Powerful moments transform us, open our eyes, force us to take U-turns. Brett A. Bernardini remembers his.

In theater.

It happened 15 years ago, when he decided to direct a “deaf” production of the musical “Oliver!” Half of the cast was hearing impaired and half was not. The entire production was done in American Sign Language, and the entire six-week production was sold out.

During the third week of shows, a mother and teenaged daughter waited for him in the lobby. This was their second time seeing the production, and they had tickets to see it three more times.

“She wanted me to know that her 14-year-old daughter had been deaf since birth and, in her words ‘…this musical is the very first time that my daughter has ever heard a musical,’” Bernardini recalled. “‘Your production has inspired her to become an actress and make a difference in other peoples’ lives, as you have in hers.’”

That moment has stuck with Bernardini, who is Theatre Harrisburg’s new executive and artistic director, succeeding Samuel Kuba, who retired in August. The fact that theater is in every breath he takes is pretty surprising considering that he had plans to be a concert pianist. As a child, he played piano and the French horn, sang, painted, created.

But no theater until he recognized his own limitations.

“In college, I learned quickly that while I was a capable and excellent musician, I did not possess that something extraordinary that was needed to achieve my dream,” Bernardini said.

Theater became important to him only later, while working as an educator. He saw it was an opportunity for students who had no self-esteem or felt they had no voice to suddenly be heard and seen.

“For me, theater quickly became a vehicle for sharing thoughts, challenging ideas and a means by which to examine the world around us that was visceral, intense and entertaining at the same time,” he said.

Those powerful moments sealed the deal. Bernardini became the founding artistic director and CEO of The Spirit of Broadway Theater in Norwich, Conn., from which he retired last December. Under his leadership, the theater became internationally recognized for its production of new musicals. He’s personally directed more than 300 productions at that theater and others, and, in 2008, created the Connecticut High School Music Theater Awards.

After 17 years, Bernardini made the decision to leave. He had achieved everything he could do creatively, had re-configured the theater space twice and enlarged its technical capacities. He had lost his mother three years before and realized how incredibly short life was. It was time, he believed, to do something else.

That “something else” was Theatre Harrisburg. Bernardini had never been to Harrisburg except to just drive past when he was an undergraduate at Shenandoah College and Conservatory of Music in Virginia. He arrived for the interview and explored. He found the city beautiful, especially the river, the bridges, the hills, the historic architecture, the diversity.

“For someone like me who has grown up in Minneapolis and worked in New York City, diversity is what makes a city beautiful, alive and exciting,” he said. “In Harrisburg, the richness of the local diversity seems to be more of a challenge and not the exceptional asset it could be. The diversity of Harrisburg is something that should be celebrated and embraced.”

He found out something else—few residents knew of Harrisburg’s exceptional arts offerings. While exploring the city, he stopped people on the street, telling them he’s from out-of-state and that he’s looking for some theater, dance or museums. The responses consisted of, “We have movie theaters at the mall,” or “There’s a science museum for kids, but I don’t know what else.”

“Clearly, there is some significant work to be done in engaging the city with the dynamic arts opportunities that are already here,” Bernardini said.

So, what is Bernardini really like? Well, he’s a foodie, loves to cook and entertain, loves to read real books (although he’s reading one on his iPad right now), loves to kayak, swim, hike, travel. He is 6-foot-2, 220 pounds, Italian, intimidating to some, yet compassionate and gentle. He likes working with talented actors as a collaborator and will push them to emotional places to find truth and give them accolades when earned.

Bernardini, who has taken residence in Midtown, is mum about Theatre Harrisburg’s plans for the future, but notes it’s at a critical crossroads not only due to its age but because it has been eclipsed by other younger, energized and edgy organizations throughout the region. It must decide, he said, what the future path will be.

“I have always lived my life according to the Zen koan ‘Leap and the net will appear,’” Bernardini muses. “Here I am.”

To learn more about Theatre Harrisburg, including its 2015-16 schedule, visit www.theatreharrisburg.com.

Heroism Honored: Black troops were excluded from the Union’s victory parade, so Harrisburg held its own. This month, that event will be commemorated.

October 30, 2015 | by John Duffy

In late May 1865, the Civil War was finally at an end.

The contest had cost more than 700,000 lives, destroyed countless others, and left the South in ruins. That month, the victorious Union armies paraded through Washington, D.C., in what organizers called The Grand Review—two solid days of celebration recognizing the efforts made by a generation in preserving the Union and ending slavery.

For most of the veterans who took part, it was their last act of soldiery. But conspicuously absent were the 180,000 African-American troops who had, by many historians’ estimations, made the crucial difference in achieving victory as the war dragged on for four long years.

“These soldiers played a pivotal role in victory, in saving the Union when it was being torn asunder,” said Dr. Frank Smith, founder and director of the African American Civil War Memorial and Museum in Washington, D.C.

They Earned It

When black troops were finally approved after much debate within the Lincoln administration, the outcome of the war was still very much in doubt.

“Yet after all the suffering and humiliation, after being bought and sold like animals, these men showed their worthiness and had some skin in the game, so to speak,” said Smith. “When Congress was debating the 13^th, 14^th and 15^th amendments after the war, we can read that many of them said ‘these people deserve this because they earned it on the battlefield.’ ”

They had passed through the crucible of war.

However, black and white soldiers could not share the Grand Review in Washington because it was politically toxic, said Dr. Harry Bradshaw Matthews, associate dean and director of intercultural affairs at Hartwick College.

“It would have been troubling to the unification process to have black troops presented on the same footing as whites,” he said. “It is important to remember that, for many white abolitionists, an end to slavery was not the same thing as equal rights.”

But thanks to several men from Pennsylvania’s capital region—politicians, abolitionists, clergy, journalists—the city of Harrisburg did what the nation had not. On a sunny November day, they held a parade of their own, a second Grand Review to honor the African-American men (the vast majority of them former slaves) who had done nothing less than help save the nation.

“And the Harrisburg victory parade showed the country, and indeed the world, that these men indeed had a right to be proud,” said Smith, who will be the keynote speaker at this month’s commemoration in Harrisburg, which takes place Nov. 13 to 15.

The Very Idea

While often delegated for garrison, general labor or guard duty, soldiers of the United States Colored Troops fought with distinction in most major actions of the war’s later years. Some 8,000 would enlist from the commonwealth, more than 1,000 of them from the Harrisburg region alone.

The dangers they faced once at war were often worse than their white comrades. At a time when most military deaths occurred in camp and not on the battlefield, black soldiers died of disease at nearly twice the normal rate. It was also Confederate policy that any black soldiers captured on the field would be re-enslaved. In several instances, surrendering and wounded colored troops were simply executed.

Yet they fought with conspicuous valor at New Market Heights, Nashville, the ill-fated Battle of the Crater, and in actions throughout Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Arkansas and the Carolinas.

By the fall of 1865, as most Union troops were back home re-entering normal life, most African-American troops were still in the military. A French army bent on taking over Mexico, and maybe Texas for that matter, required immediate attention. So, off to the Rio Grande the veterans went.

Many scholars have debated whether the absence of black soldiers in the Grand Review was a move of a pragmatic command—after all, many colored troop enlistments would not be up for another year—or racially motivated, as many ranking army commanders at war’s end still objected to the very idea of colored soldiers.

“There were more than enough black soldiers in uniform that could have participated in the Grand Review,” stated Matthews.

The end of slavery was, in fact, represented at the Grand Review, but in the form of thousands of camp followers—former slaves who sought the relative safety of the Union armies in a vengeful south.

“It is ironic and also in very poor taste that contraband slaves could take part in the parade only by parading behind those conquerors that saved them,” Matthews said.

All the Rights

Sensing an injustice, Pennsylvania Gov. Andrew Curtin invited several USCT regiments to the city and, on a crisp and sunny November day—a Tuesday—the soldiers formed up at State and Filbert streets and marched through Harrisburg to the cheers of residents, both black and white.

The event had been loudly promoted in the preceding days in the local press, including a notice in The Christian Recorder, which, in proclaiming the event, hoped that “our people will not fail to show their appreciation of the services of our country’s defenders…”

Serving as grand marshal of the review was Thomas Morris Chester, a Harrisburg lawyer, abolitionist and colored troop recruiter. More than anyone present that day, he was intimately familiar with the heroism of the troops he reviewed.

In the waning days of the war, Chester served as the only black war correspondent for a major newspaper, covering the actions of colored soldiers as they helped bring the war to its end outside of Richmond. When the city finally fell in early April 1865, Chester personally witnessed a column of well-armed, smartly uniformed veteran black troops become the first Union men to enter the fallen Confederate capital.

Now, Chester led a column of the same men through his hometown, not as conquerors, but as honored victors. The procession paused at the Front Street home of Simon Cameron, former Secretary of War and U.S. senator. Cameron had been an early advocate of both emancipation and the recruitment of colored soldiers.

Like Chester, he hoped the Harrisburg review would help the nation work quickly towards universal black suffrage.

“Like all other men, you have your destinies in your own hands,” Cameron said to the troops. “And if you continue to conduct yourselves hereafter as you have in the struggle, you will have all the rights you ask for, all the rights that belong to human beings.”

But even if the exclusion from the Grand Review in Washington was intentional, as Matthews insists, the benefits to colored troops of their service were numerous.

“A large number learned to read and write due to their service,” Matthews said. “That was critical.”

Along with nearly $5 million in pension pay starting in 1870, this literacy helped former soldiers become leaders of the post-war South.

“They served in elected offices, became teachers and community leaders, and founded many of the self-help organizations that built the African-American communities of the South,” he said. “At a time when Jim Crow laws were seeking to reassert the old order, they became the new backbone of freedom.”

Many events are planned in Harrisburg from Nov. 13 to 15 to commemorate the 150^th anniversary of The Grand Review. The highlight, The Grand Review procession featuring United States Colored Troops re-enactors, will take place on Nov. 14, beginning at 10 a.m. from Grace United Methodist Church, 216 State St. For a complete schedule of events, visit www.2015grandreview.com.

Seasonal Treat: For Thanksgiving, Rosemary shares her special applesauce recipe.

October 30, 2015 | by Rosemary Ruggieri Baer

When I was a young bride, my mother gave me a kitchen device that is still with me today: a food mill.

It looks like something from the dark ages, I suppose, but I couldn’t be without it. It is a hand-cranked device that purees vegetables and fruits that have been chopped and cooked down along with their skins, seeds and other parts of their natural state. Cooked tomatoes can be pureed in a food mill and used as a base for fresh marinara sauce. My mother would do this every year and freeze the summer’s bounty for the winter.

Mostly, I use mine to make fresh applesauce, which, as the holidays fast approach, would make a lovely addition to Thanksgiving dinner (especially for those guests not particularly fond of cranberries, jellied or otherwise).

I love my applesauce. It is tart and sweet at the same time and is fragrant with cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla. I cook the apples in apple cider rather than water, which gives the sauce a deep, rich flavor. A splash of fresh lemon juice brightens the flavor. Nothing that comes in a jar comes close to homemade applesauce. I’ve tried them all.

We are fortunate to live in an area with abundant apple harvests from the local orchards near Harrisburg all the way to the apple paradise of Adams County. The Adams County Apple website lists close to 80 apple varieties that are available from early summer to mid-November. In a way, apples are like wine, each with subtle differences in sweetness, tartness, color and texture.

I love sauce made from the first transparent green apples of early summer, like Lodi. Lodi sauce is pale green and fairly tart, requiring a good amount of sugar. Golden Delicious apples of mid-summer make a sweet, slightly yellow sauce, while the Winesaps, as their name suggests, are tart and fragrant with a hint of rich, red wine.

Making applesauce is not hard, although it can be a little messy. If you don’t want to invest in a food mill, you can peel and core the apples, remove the seeds, cut into chunks and simmer on the stove until they are tender. This results in a chunky sauce and, oh, is it good!

Ingredients

8 large apples that are used for cooking, as well as eating (some, like Red Delicious, are sold as “eating apples”)
At least a pint of apple cider or unfiltered apple juice (the amount of liquid you use will influence how thick or thin your sauce will be)
Anywhere from ½ to 1 cup of sugar depending on the tartness of the apples and your taste
Cinnamon and nutmeg (I use a lot but let your taste guide you)
1 to 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 fresh lemon, cut in quarters

Rosemary’s Applesauce

Thoroughly scrub the apples with a stiff brush and running water.
On a cutting board, slice the apples into quarters. If you are using a food mill, there is no need to peel them or remove the cores and seeds.
Place the apples in a large saucepan or Dutch oven and pour enough apple cider to partially cover the apples.
Bring the apples and cider to a boil, and then reduce the heat to medium/medium low. The mixture should be bubbling. Cooking time will depend on the firmness of the apples.
Cook until the apples are very soft, almost “dissolving.”
Remove from the heat and let cool slightly as the apples will be very hot.
Place the food mill over a bowl large enough to hold the applesauce. There is a bit of trial and error here. The food mill has small hooks, and you must find a good fit with a bowl.
When the apples are not too hot to handle, take a large ladle and scoop the apples with some cider into the food mill. Turn the handle until the apples are pureed and all that remains in the mill are skins and seeds. Repeat the process until all the apples are strained into your bowl. Use less cooking liquid if you like a thicker sauce.

Finishing the Sauce

While the sauce is still warm, add the sugar and some fresh squeezed lemon juice. Immediately stir to dissolve the sugar. Keep tasting and adjusting the sugar and lemon juice to your taste.
Add several teaspoons of cinnamon and about 1 teaspoon of nutmeg, along with a big splash of pure vanilla extract. There is no need to stick to precise measurements. You might even try a little cardamom or coriander if you like those spices.
Stir the mixture very well and sprinkle extra cinnamon on top.
Serve warm or chilled with chicken, turkey or pork chops and even for a snack. And applesauce cake is wonderful in the fall.

There are still food mills being sold out there, although, I suspect, not very many. I was happy to see a great New York Times article recently about a man who used his food mill to make his own designer gin and bitters. That sounded wonderful!

I am willing mine to my younger son, the cook. But, in the meantime, there’s lots of applesauce still ahead.

Happy Thanksgiving to all TheBurg readers!

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