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American Spirit

We Were Teachers

by Richard “Pete” Peterson

In 2003, I received an invitation from David Shribman, the new executive editor of the Post-Gazette and a Red Sox fan, to write a guest column on what it was like to be a Pirates fan in exile. Over the past 20 years, I’ve written a number of guest columns in exile, ranging from the …

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American Spirit People

The Brush Pile

by David Macpherson

About 100 yards from my house, near the edge of an open field, lies a large brush pile. It’s unsightly, at least from the human perspective — a lump of tangled, decomposing chaos marring the open views of the field. Each time I pass, I think: I’ve got to do something about that. We all …

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American Spirit People

Retiring Ritter Farm

Under a gray November sky, in a rain-soaked cornfield where four generations of the Ritter family had farmed, Carol Ritter embraced her husband, Ralph, as strangers bid on equipment the couple had accrued over nearly 60 years of farming. “Woooeee, look at that,” said auctioneer John R. Huey II of Slippery Rock, gesturing toward a …

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American Spirit People

The Promise of a Car

by Steve Hellberg

I was the only sibling to be born in Detroit during our family’s five-year stint (1958-1963) in the Motor City. I was told I started talking “late” for my age, but when I did start, I surprised my parents during car rides by correctly calling out the make, model and year of every car on …

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American Spirit

How the Mighty Have Fallen

by Diane Vrabel

Last October, my husband and I were driving through the eastern Pittsburgh suburb of Forest Hills when our physics buff son Mark blurted out, “Hey, there’s an old atom smasher around here somewhere. Can we go see it?” “Atom smasher?” I asked, with a blank look. “What’s that? A Kennywood coaster?” “It’s a nuclear reactor,” …

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American Spirit

Courtney and the Mallows

The marshmallows will get shipped all over the place. Hawaii. Alaska. Central America. Mexico. “We haven’t done Europe yet,” says Courtney Taylor-Turner as she flips on the KitchenAid Pro 600 that sits on the kitchen island in her home in North Huntington. “Our most popular flavor used to be the toasted coconut, but not anymore. …

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American Spirit

The Neighbors

The cookies had come out of the oven earlier in the week. Delicious and gooey and way too tempting. Free range brown eggs, Amish butter flavored with sea salt, and semi-sweet chocolate chips that had tumbled out of a shimmering gold bag from Ghirardelli, the same chocolate chips that had been pillaged from the shelves …

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American Spirit

Happy Hour

The boxed wine seemed like a good idea. So did the cheese—smoked Gouda and Wisconsin cheddar that came in thick blocks and occupied all the real estate on a fancy cracker dusted with sea salt. So the place mats were arranged on the weathered picnic table that in another lifetime was painted a deep, forest …

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American Spirit

To Thine Own Shelf Be True…

The toilet paper was all gone. An entire aisle. Gone. No Charmin or Scott or Cottonelle. No double rolls or extra soft. Not even a box of Kleenex or paper napkins, either. Nothing but a sign. WE ARE LIMITING TOILET PAPER TO TWO PER CUSTOMER. THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION. “As soon as we get …

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American Spirit

A Walk in the Park

The lake is stocked with trout. Rainbow trout and golden trout. Scales that manage to shimmer even on an overcast day, when the sun is trying but the clouds are winning. When fishing lines are being cast into water the color of army fatigues, creating a whisper of a ripple with the cast of each …

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American Spirit

The Audition

“Are you getting too thin?” the agent asks from a small, windowless office, where beautiful faces hang, poster sized, all beaming, pouting, posing. “Too thin?” the model repeats, reaching for her Louis Vuitton tote. “Um, I don’t think so. But thank you! I tried on a bathing suit the other day. I was by myself …

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American Spirit

That’s How the Cookie Crumbles

The wood fired oven sits in Dan Cardone’s perfectly manicured back yard in a residential development in the North Hills. A stately, towering thing made of brick, mortar, stone, and some marble that was going to be a headstone for a grave. “They spelled someone’s name wrong and couldn’t use it,” he says. He spent …

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American Spirit

Backstage

The guys are hanging out in the dressing room, the green room, the whatever room. Donnie Iris, Dave Granati, Ricky Granati, Hermie Granati and Joey Granati—five guys occupying subterranean quarters underneath The Strand Theater in Zelienople, 30 minutes before their gig is supposed to begin. The Granatis’ mom should have been here already but she’s …

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American Spirit

It’s a Sip of Wine… It’s Summertime!

Kenny Chesney is at Heinz Field. White cowboy hat. Sleeveless shirt. Jeans. Leader of the “No Shoes Nation” and wearing cowboy boots. Sweating. Singing. And totally irritating the hospital security guards. “I’d like to kick Kenny Chesney’s ass,” says one as he steps outside of the hospital and into the 76-degree night, a few steps …

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American Spirit

They Call Him the Rapper…

Donnie Iris is sitting in what’s supposed to be his dressing room on the second floor of the Rivers Casino. Down the hall from the Grand View Buffet and a line of people waiting behind velvet ropes for the $14.99 crab legs. “This is my cousin Petey… and my other cousin Petey,” he says, pointing …

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American Spirit

The Fight

“Tell me to be brave.” Jarrell “The Samurai” Brackett is in the basement of the Grand Hall of the Priory on Pressley Street in the North Side of Pittsburgh. Sparring. Pacing. Praying. He’s sporting a purple mohawk. Fu man chu mustache. A mouth guard is garbling his speech. He’s got lime green Title boxing gloves …

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American Spirit

The Delay

“Oh, they are getting me to Dallas,” the woman says, white earphones plugged into a black Samsung. “I mean, seriously, a windshield wiper motor? Like, they couldn’t have figured out that was broken last night? When the plane landed?” Welcome to Pittsburgh International Airport! As a reminder, ticketed passengers only are allowed past the ticketed …

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American Spirit

Bad Apples

The people are standing, sitting, heads down, waiting in line, eyes buried in iPhones. Dockers tucked into crisp blue Oxford button downs and rugby ties next to man buns and lip rings, neon yellow fake nails and plaid school uniforms. Black, white, fat, thin, in a rush, using a cane to slowly walk by. Waiting …

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American Spirit

A Passion for Pasta

The handmade, white fettuccini pasta comes in 14 flavors like basil, hot red pepper, black pepper, chive, spinach, sun dried tomato, garlic basil, parsley and squid ink, which everyone always thinks is weird. Because it’s black. Black as ink fettuccini needles. “It’s a learning curve,” says Yvonne Hennigan. “But squid ink is very common in …

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American Spirit

The Meticulous Carpenter

Kevin’s got to get back inside of the house on Marshall Road on Observatory Hill. There’s work he needs to do. But first, he wants to get Donnie some water. “Here, man,” he says, appearing a few minutes later, handing Donnie the water, which has been poured into an empty gallon of Dean’s Dairy Pure …

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American Spirit

In the Smokehouse with Herb

There are 400 pounds of bacon smoking in the smoker. Hickory smoked. With actual hickory. “Not liquid smoke,” says Herb Brittner. “See the hickory sawdust? This is the real deal.” The bacon is going to be sliced tomorrow, probably by Herb’s sister, Sally, as well as Randy, who are already slicing and packing 100 more …

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American Spirit

Anne is All About Cookies

Anne is going to bake some pizzelles, but you get the house tour first. “Bedroom, bathroom, living room, kitchen,” she says, passing by framed photos on the walls: pictures of her on her wedding day to George, 59 years ago, and their son, Ray, during every year of school. Anne and George live in Ray’s …

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