Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Plunges into Pennsylvania Read online

  O’Hara had a reputation as a drinker and carouser, and most of his stories dealt with depravity and alcoholism. Class struggles also played a role, inspired by O’Hara’s own experience of falling into poverty after his father, a prominent doctor, died in 1924 when O’Hara was 19, after which the one-time prep-school student could no longer afford to go to Yale. Appointment at Samarra was initially criticized for its forthright discussions about sex, and BUtterfield 8 tells the story of a call girl who poses as a model. (Elizabeth Taylor won an Academy Award for her role in the 1960 film adaptation.)

  Keystone Fact: Penn State’s Special Collections Library houses an exact reconstruction of O’Hara’s study and a collection of his papers.

  Edgar Allan Poe

  A writer of horror stories and often called the father of the mystery novel, Edgar Allan Poe was born in Massachusetts in 1809. His parents died when he was two, and he lived with a foster mother until she died when he was 20. He spent several years moving from place to place around the East until he landed in Philadelphia in 1838. He lived there for six years and wrote several of his most famous works while in Philadelphia.

  Poe rented a house on North Seventh Street, where he lived with his wife Virginia, his mother-in-law, and a beloved cat named Catarina. This was where he wrote “The Tell-Tale Heart,” “The Black Cat” (inspired by Catarina), and “The Gold Bug,” which won a newspaper-sponsored contest. He also began work on “The Raven” while living in Philadelphia, though the poem—which made him internationally famous—was later published in New York.

  Keystone Fact: Poe’s home at 532 North Seventh Street is now the Edgar Allan Poe National Historic Site. Self-guided tours lead visitors through the house and the cellar, which looks a lot like the fictional cellar where a murderer kills his wife in “The Black Cat.” Recitations of Poe’s terrifying tales and spooky candlelight tours take place throughout the year.

  Poor Richard

  Witty and wise, Benjamin Franklin certainly had a lot to say.

  Between 1732 and 1758, Benjamin Franklin published an annual almanac—he took the pseudonym “Poor Richard” and called the publication Poor Richard’s Almanack. Many of the famous phrases attributed to Franklin came from that work. See how many you recognize.

  Speaking Plainly

  “Fish and visitors stink after three days.”

  “God helps them that help themselves.”

  “The noblest question in the world is: What good can I do in it?”

  “A good example is the best sermon.”

  “They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

  “There was never a good war or a bad peace.”

  “He that lieth down with dogs shall rise up with fleas.”

  “Work as if you were to live a hundred years, pray as if you were to die tomorrow.”

  “To err is human, to forgive divine; to persist devilish.”

  “Nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.”

  “He that is good for making excuses is seldom good for anything else.”

  “People who are wrapped up in themselves make small packages.”

  “So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, since it enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do.”

  “Old boys have their playthings as well as young ones; the difference is only in the price.”

  “He that teaches himself, hath a fool for his master.”

  “Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”

  “Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.”

  Clever Comebacks

  Ben Franklin also made witty remarks off the page:

  •When Franklin saw a demonstration of hot-air balloons in France, another spectator asked, “What good is it?” Franklin responded, “What good is a newborn baby?”

  •At the signing of the Declaration of Independence, John Hancock urged all present to sign the document, saying, “We must all hang together.” “Yes, we must indeed all hang together,” Franklin added, “Or most assuredly, we shall all hang separately.”

  Must-see Muscletown

  Uncle John wondered . . . what Pennsylvania city is older than New York, but newer than England’s (Old) York?

  Town: York

  Location: York County

  Founding: 1741

  Population (2008): 41,000

  Size: 5.3 square miles

  County seat: Yes

  What’s in a Name?

  Settlers who moved out of Philadelphia started the town and named it after York, England, where many of them were from originally.

  Claims to Fame:

  •The York Peppermint Pattie, now manufactured by Hershey (more about that on page 284), was invented in York in 1940.

  •The Continental Congress met in York from September 1777 to June 1778.

  •During the Civil War, Penn Park in downtown York was the site of the York U.S. Army Hospital. Between July 1862, when the hospital opened, and the end of the war in 1865, more than 14,000 Union soldiers were treated there, including 2,500 from Gettysburg alone.

  •In 1777, George Washington was having little success in his military campaigns. So a group of disgruntled soldiers, led by Brigadier General Thomas Conway, met in York’s Golden Plough Tavern and cooked up a plot to oust Washington from his position as the head of the Revolutionary army. (They failed.) The tavern still stands today, and is the oldest building in the city.

  •In the early 1900s, the York Motor Car Company built an automobile called the Pullman, a luxury car that cost between $1,500 and $3,000. (A Model T, the most popular car at the time, cost about $500.) The York company went bankrupt in 1917, but not before it launched a publicity campaign to show how durable their automobile was: in 1908, an employee drove a Pullman from York to San Francisco, California, and back. It took him a month.

  •York is nicknamed “Muscletown” because, in 1932, bodybuilder and fitness advocate Bob Hoffman started the York Barbell Corporation there. He went on to become an Olympic weightlifting coach. York is now home to the USA Weightlifting Hall of Fame.

  •York’s biggest employer: a Harley-Davidson motorcycle plant. Half of all Harley employees work there.

  Quote Me

  “I thought it might be a good move to get into a beauty contest so I tried for Miss Pennsylvania and won. I think that helped me get noticed, at least by the people of Pennsylvania.”

  —Sharon Stone

  Food, Glorious Food

  From fried pork scraps to Tastykakes, Pennsylvania’s delicacies are a source of hometown pride.

  Shoofly Pie

  There’s a rumor that shoofly pie is actually a French dish whose top looked like a cauliflower (cheux-fleur in French), and eventually the term was shortened to “shoo-fly.” But Pennsylvanians don’t buy that. They know that Pennsylvania Dutch settlers invented shoofly pie in the early 1900s, when they ran out of fruit one winter and had only flour, molasses, and lard to make a dessert. Those chefs fashioned a sweet, gooey tart that’s often topped with a sugary flour crumble.

  Despite the French rumor, the sticky treat’s name probably comes from the number of flies it attracts as it cools, eliciting cries of “Shoo, fly!” from bakers. Today, shoofly pie comes in two varieties: “wet bottom” (soft filling and a crumb topping) or “dry bottom” (with the crumb topping mixed into the pie).

  Scrapple

  After the bacon and chops have been cut, what’s a frugal farmer to do with the rest of his pig? In the case of German settlers in eastern Pennsylvania, they put the scraps—head, heart, liver, tongue, and skin—into a pot; boiled them; cut off the leftover meat; mixed that with cornmeal, onions, and spices; and created a new dish. Most people eat scrapple at breakfast (with fried eggs), but scrapple sandwiches are also popular. Common condiments: maple syrup, ketchup, apple butter, and mustard.

  Red Beet Eggs

/>   The hue of these puckered eggs is more pink than red, but the name comes from the red beets used to color and flavor the eggs, and once again, this culinary delight comes from the Pennsylvania Dutch. Sweet, tart red beet eggs show up at nearly every Pennsylvania picnic.

  Recipe: Combine ¼ cup of sugar, ½ cup of vinegar (some people prefer apple cider vinegar), a pound of sliced red beets, and a sliced onion, and boil for 15 minutes. Then pour that mixture over one dozen peeled hard-boiled eggs. Put it all in a sealed container and let it marinate in the refrigerator for three days.

  Tastykake

  Individually wrapped snack cakes from Philadelphia’s Tastykake company have attracted a cultlike following. Devotees live for favorites like Butterscotch Krimpets, Cream-Filled Buttercream Iced Chocolate Cupcakes, and Lemon Pie turnovers. The name comes from cofounder Herbert Morris’s wife who, when she tried the bakery’s early samples, proclaimed them “tasty.”

  For years the treats were on sale only in Pennsylvania. But as the company grew, so did its distribution, and today, Tastykake addicts worldwide can order their favorites on the Internet.

  Tasty Trivia

  •10 cents: Cost of the first Tastykakes.

  •150 feet: Length of the company’s oven.

  •2,000: Number of cakes an actress dressed as Marie Antoinette tossed from the tower of Philadelphia’s Eastern State Penitentiary to celebrate Bastille Day in 2008. She shouted, “Let them eat Tastykake!” as the desserts fell. (The prison closed in 1970 and is now a tourist attraction.)

  •14,080: Number of Tastykake pies that, when laid end-to-end, would stretch for one mile.

  •135,000 pounds: Amount of sugar the company’s bakers use every day.

  •4.8 million: Number of treats that Tastykake bakers make daily.

  Did You Know?

  In the late 1760s, British immigrants established a series of settlements in the West Branch Susquehanna River valley in what is now Lycoming County. But the British government recognized the land as belonging to the local American Indians, so the Crown didn’t govern the area—which meant that the settlers essentially had no government. So in 1773, they created their own. Every year, they elected three “fair-play men” to oversee all legal matters and to make sure everyone was treated fairly. The fair-play men’s word was the law, and the system worked well. It didn’t last long, though: the tiny enclave remained operational only until 1785. After the Revolutionary War, the settlers’ land became part of the newly independent United States, and the state of Pennsylvania dissolved the fair-play system.

  Pennsylvania Evens

  While we were researching the Keystone State, we ran across these interesting numbers. (The “odds” are on page 146.)

  Pennsylvania has 2 . . . of the United States’ most prestigious orchestras: the Philadelphia Orchestra and the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra.

  Pennsylvania has 4 . . . lighthouses on Lake Erie, but only two are officially considered “historic,” meaning they’re on the National Park Service’s “Inventory of Historic Light Stations.” The oldest of the two is the Erie Land (Old Presque Isle) Light, first lit in 1867.

  Pennsylvania has 6 . . . international airports: Lehigh Valley, Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Wilkes-Barre/Scranton, Harrisburg, and Erie.

  Pennsylvania has 22 . . . species of snakes.

  Pennsylvania has 40 . . . miles of shoreline along Lake Erie.

  Pennsylvania has 116 . . . state parks.

  Pennsylvania has 130 . . . four-year colleges and universities that enroll more than 590,000 students.

  Pennsylvania has more than 5,100 . . . miles of railway.

  Washington’s War

  Two decades before the American Revolution, George Washington lost a battle at a makeshift fort in the Pennsylvania woods . . . and accidentally started an international incident.

  The Stakes

  In the mid-1700s, the French and British were still embroiled in a dispute over which empire would control the Ohio Valley, a vast tract of land encompassing modern-day Ohio and parts of West Virginia, Indiana, and southwest Pennsylvania. Virginia’s lieutenant governor Robert Dinwiddie saw a chance to make money from furs and real estate in the Ohio Valley.

  So in 1749, the English government gave Dinwiddie and his business partners 200,000 acres of land near present-day Pittsburgh to settle in the name of Britain and on which to build a fort to protect the territory. This would give Britain control of important trade routes through the heart of the new frontier, and the Virginians would prosper from the new business opportunities. There was only one problem: the French military. The French had already laid claim to the Ohio Valley—they’d established trade relations with the American Indians and built several forts.

  But in the winter of 1753, Governor Dinwiddie hired a young surveyor named George Washington to act as his ensign. He sent the man to the French fort Le Boeuf (at what is now Waterford, Pennsylvania) to inform the French commander, Jacques Legardeur de Saint-Pierre, that the English were ordering the French to leave the Ohio Valley at once. Saint-Pierre politely declined, and when Washington returned to Virginia, he gave Dinwiddie more bad news: Washington had scouted out a strong French military presence in the valley and learned of plans for reinforcements in the spring. Concerned, Dinwiddie sent Washington back to the Ohio Valley, this time with orders to defend British interests.

  Shots Fired

  On May 24, 1754, Washington and his men were busy building a wagon road from Alexandria, Virginia, through the forest into the Ohio Valley to make it easier for Virginia to send settlers and soldiers into the frontier. They made camp in the Great Meadows, where there was freshwater from streams and enough grass for their animals.

  While awaiting reinforcements and supplies, they got a tip from a friendly Seneca chief that hostile French soldiers lurked nearby. Chief Tanaghrisson, whom the British called Half King, wanted the French out of the valley, too—partly because he believed that the British would do more for his people, but mainly because he held the French responsible for the death of his father.

  On May 28, Tanaghrisson guided Washington and 40 of his militiamen to what is now known as Jumonville Glen. There, they surprised a sleeping French colonial militia. (It’s still debated whether the Frenchmen were a hostile force or only emissaries sent to warn Washington that he was in their territory.) No one knows who fired the first shot, but when the musket smoke cleared, 10 French soldiers were dead and 21 others, including the commanding officer, Ensign Joseph Coulon Sieur de Jumonville, were British prisoners. Then, according to most reports, Tanaghrisson took revenge on the French and scalped Jumonville.

  That Little Thing Upon the Meadow

  Jumonville had been under Washington’s protection as an officer and prisoner of war, though, and Washington expected French reprisals for his death. So in the low-lying, marshy clearing of the Great Meadows, Washington’s men hastily constructed Fort Necessity, whose stockade fence was made of white oak posts driven into the ground. Inside the fence were swivel guns—small cannons mounted on posts that could be turned in various directions—along with a shed to hold provisions. Washington notified Dinwiddie about the fort and claimed that it would hold off at least 500 attackers.

  Tanaghrisson, however, was unimpressed with Fort Necessity, which he called “that little thing upon the meadow.” Ringed in by higher ground and dense forest, the fort seemed vulnerable to attack. So even though Washington got reinforcements from Virginia and South Carolina on June 12, Tanaghrisson and his men refused to defend the fort. Without their Indian allies, the Virginians had less than 400 men to hold off the enemy.

  On the morning of July 3, 600 French troops and 100 other American Indians led by Captain Louis Coulon de Villiers—the half-brother of Jumonville—fired on the fort from the cover of trees. Holding the higher ground, the French and their allies were able to take deadly aim on the troops trapped in the meadow. Washington soon knew he’d made a mistake. Even the weather worked against Fort Necessity:
heavy rain swamped the Great Meadow, making it nearly impossible for the militiamen to keep their gunpowder dry and their muskets firing.

  Lost in Translation

  By nightfall, almost a third of Washington’s troops were dead or wounded. Others raided the fort’s supply of rum and became too drunk for battle. That evening, when the French sent a surrender offer, Washington knew he couldn’t refuse.

  A Dutchman who was fluent in both French and English translated the French terms, and Washington wearily signed the surrender document.

  On July 4, 1754, Washington and his men retreated from the Great Meadow and left Fort Necessity to the victorious French, who burned it down. It was a bleak day for Washington, but it would have been worse if he’d known that the Dutchman had missed translating an important clause: that Washington had assassinated Jumonville.

  The Jumonville Affair

  That charge of assassination haunted Washington, who resigned from the militia before he could be demoted. The French government used the signed surrender as propaganda, and the “Jumonville affair” ignited passions that led to the Seven Years’ War in Europe (known as the French and Indian War in North America). The conflict eventually involved all the major powers of Europe—France, Great Britain, Austria, Prussia, the Russian empire, Sweden, Spain, Portugal, and the Netherlands—as well as their colonies. The theaters of the conflict spanned the globe from Virginia and Canada all the way to India. British statesman Horace Walpole later wrote, “The volley fired by a young Virginian in the backwoods of America set the world on fire.”