American Spirit Archives - Pittsburgh Quarterly

After an 11-year exile to Nashville, Tennessee, I finally woke up smelling Pittsburgh. I woke from dreams of flying through the Conemaugh Gap, inhaling the untouched scent of the Laurel and Cresson mountains surrounding my hometown of Johnstown, and continued across Route 22 to the musky smells of the Monongahela and into the mist of bridges …

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American Spirit Regional News

Sailing at the Point

by Joe Kirk

It’s a brisk early-June Saturday morning on the North Shore just downriver from the Point. A light breeze is moving in from the west on the Allegheny River. Almost a dozen high school girls and boys from several Pittsburgh and suburban schools gather at an under-used concrete riverfront amphitheater, jabbering away while looping their arms …

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American Spirit People

Waiting For…

by John Beale

So many people waiting. In Monroeville, paramedic Dave Sherman was waiting to respond to another emergency call. In Indiana Township, Lucas Goeller was waiting for a life-saving liver transplant. In Mt. Lebanon, Emily Eagleton and Laura Handy were waiting to become parents. In East Deer Township, dozens of motorists were waiting in a construction zone. …

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American Spirit

To Keep Your Balance, You Must Keep Moving

by Lori Jakiela

My daughter Phelan was born in 2004. She knows Winona Ryder from the series Stranger Things. She thinks Johnny Depp’s Wino tattoo is because he has a drinking problem; who knows, not judging. Stranger Things is set in the 1980s. The kids in the show ride bikes with banana seats and handlebar tassels, just like …

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American Spirit Food & Wine

Quest for Cake

by Louise Gray

A birthday celebration calls for a birthday cake and gifts. As far as I’m concerned, forget about the gifts, but keep the cake. My love affair with birthday cakes began when I was four. Each morning on his way to work, my Uncle Eddie drove his two aunts and my mom to their jobs and …

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American Spirit

The Oliver Building

by Scott Holleran

As the Henry W. Oliver building was completed in terra cotta and granite in 1910, columnist M.E. Gable described the scene: “As you make the turn dipping into the throbbing heart of Pittsburgh, the upper reaches of the building burst upon your vision in all their beauty of architectural triumph. As you get nearer to it …

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American Spirit Pittsburgh Immigration

Hello Neighbor

by Tracy Certo

Basel Knaineh and Maisaa Jamal Eddin fled their native Syria after Basel was imprisoned — for no reason and with no timeline, he says — at the start of the Syrian War in 2011. He spent a month in jail, frantic and bewildered, before being released as suddenly as he was detained. Desperate, he and …

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American Spirit

All Aboard

by Julia Fraser

Hulking steam engines, nearly a century old, await repairs in their original roundhouse in Rockhill Furnace, Pa. The crisp country air fades into the smell of an industrial past next to No. 14, a “snappy engine,” according to Linn Moedinger, a mechanical advisor at East Broad Top Railroad, who works on restoring the machines. “It’s …

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American Spirit Arts

The Ruins

by Ben Moyer

When Rachel Sager bought a house, she didn’t know it came with a coal mine. Obscured by woods in her “backyard,” and flanking the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) bike trail, are the sprawling ruins of the once robust Banning No. 2 coal mine: a labyrinth of crumbling brick and weathered concrete, wedged between bluffs and …

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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

by John Beale

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

by Kate Benz

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

by Kate Benz

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

by Kate Benz

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…

by Kate Benz

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

by Kate Benz

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

by Kate Benz

“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

by Kate Benz

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

by Kate Benz

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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