Category: History

Reading Roundup 2023

The most impactful book to me in 2023 was one I wrote with my wife Carol and our youngest son. Stepping Stones: our pathfinding adventures with Asperger’s is our growth journey from accepting “that’s just Philip,” to obtaining a diagnosis on the autism spectrum, to learning how to cope and still succeed. From the distinct advantage of countless wayfinding steps more than 20 years in the making, we offer pragmatic guidance, self-help encouragement, and real reason for hope to all parents and caregivers of children with autism spectrum disorder. tinyurl.com/4c6bxw4s

I try to read widely, for both intellectual development and entertainment. Not all my choices pertain directly to my work, or even my personal interests. Restricted Data: The History of Nuclear Secrecy in the United States, recommended to me by my physicist son, wasn’t one I’d have chosen on my own, but it did augment what I learned from the Oppenheimer film this year. Even fiction, when it represents a divergent point of view, can add to my useful stores of knowledge. Ilana’s Love, a book by my friend (which, despite the inference from its title is not a romance novel—a genre I usually do ignore!), furnished a thought-provoking perspective on relationships.

I re-read all 4,100 pages of the 7-volume Harry Potter series, (the first published 26 years ago!) enjoying many details and nuances not found in the films. J.K. Rowling is a master of originality, dialog, character development, and plot complexities.

Is it just me, or are subtitles are getting longer all the time? But then there’s John Grisham, whose obviously successful title formula is: “The __.” Nonetheless, the subtitles do help me better remember the content afterward.

The complete list of those I’ve read last year follows, but here are my personal citations for those I’ve found most captivating, memorable, or practical in the following categories:

Work-related: Herding Tigers: Be the Leader That Creative People Need
Biography: Leonardo da Vinci
History: The Klondike Fever: The Life and Death of the Last Great Gold Rush
Science: An Immense World: How Animal Senses Reveal the Hidden Realms Around Us
Nonfiction: Miracle in the Andes: 72 Days on the Mountain and My Long Trek Home
Business: Ice Cream Social: The Struggle for the Soul of Ben & Jerry’s
Spiritual: Experiencing God Day by Day
Fiction: What Rose Forgot, and The Man Who Died Twice

  1. Vanishing Grace: What Ever Happened to the Good News?, Philip Yancy
  2. Storytizing: What’s Next After Advertising? Bob Pearson
  3. The Klondike Fever: The Life and Death of the Last Great Gold Rush, Pierre Berton
  4. The Freedom of Self-Forgiveness: The Path to True Christian Joy, Timothy Keller
  5. A Wild Idea: How the Environmental Movement Tamed the Adirondacks, Brad Edmundson
  6. Black Ice, Brad Thor
  7. The Case For Easter: A Journalist Investigates the Evidence for the Resurrection, Lee Strobel
  8. The Cabinet of Dr. Leng, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child
  9. Seeing Red, Sandra Brown
  10. Jerks at Work: How to Deal with People Problems and Problem People, Ken Lloyd
  11. Born a Yankee, Grace Carstens
  12. Missing Witness, Gordon Campbell
  13. Ilana’s Love, Laurel West
  14. Relic, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child
  15. Alive: The Story of the Andes Survivors, Piers Paul Read
  16. Miracle in the Andes: 72 Days on the Mountain and My Long Trek Home, Nando Parrado with Vince Rause
  17. The Book of Lies, Brad Meltzner
  18. The Measure of All Things: The Seven-Year Odyssey and Hidden Error That Transformed the World, Ken Alder
  19. Sea of Tranquility, Emily St. John Mandel
  20. Reliquary, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child
  21. What Rose Forgot, Nevada Barr
  22. Ice Cream Social: The Struggle for the Soul of Ben & Jerry’s, Brad Edmundson
  23. The Book of Fate, Brad Meltzner
  24. Once Upon a Wardrobe, Patti Callahan
  25. Becoming Mrs. Lewis, Patti Callahan
  26. What’s Wrong With Me? A Journal of Emotional Healing in a Broken World, Royce Alan Alford
  27. Leonardo da Vinci, Wallter Isaacson
  28. Stepping Stones: Our pathfinding adventure with Asperger’s, Tim and Carol Herd with Philip Herd
  29. An Immense World: How Animal Senses Reveal the Hidden Realms Around Us, Ed Yong
  30. The Outermost House: A Year of Life on the Great Beach of Cape Cod, Henry Beston
  31. 13½, Nevada Barr
  32. Love Me, Garrison Keillor
  33. Restricted Data: The History of Nuclear Secrecy in the United States, Alex Wellerstein
  34. Address Unknown, Katherine Kressman Taylor
  35. Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore, Robin Sloan
  36. The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, John Mark Comer
  37. The Judge’s List, John Grisham
  38. The Troop, Nick Cutter
  39. The Whistler, John Grisham
  40. The Reckoning, John Grisham
  41. What Was Rescued, Jane Bailey
  42. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, J.K. Rowling
  43. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, J.K. Rowling
  44. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. Rowling
  45. Molly’s Pilgrim, Barba Cohen
  46. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J.K. Rowling
  47. The Bullet That Missed, Richard Osman
  48. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, J.K. Rowling
  49. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J.K. Rowling
  50. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, J.K. Rowling
  51. Getting Through the Tough Stuff: It’s Always Something, Charles Swindoll
  52. Herding Tigers: Be the Leader That Creative People Need, Todd Henry
  53. The Man Who Died Twice, Richard Osman
  54. Experiencing God Day by Day, Henry Blackaby and Richard Blackaby

Stepping Stones

our pathfinding adventure with Asperger’s

Supportive relationships bring vitality to reality.
We are very grateful to our friends and family who have stood by us during some of our most challenging times. This year, we were able to publish our story of raising our youngest son on a high functioning sliver of the autism spectrum. As the first student in the school district diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, he became the blunt instrument of change it required but didn’t know it needed.

Each phase of life can be a stepping stone to progress.
From the distinct advantage of countless wayfinding steps more than 20 years in the making, we’re now able to tell the tale of our passage. But at the time, we hadn’t a clue to the route, or the fuss we would create.

Words of faith determine the journey’s end before I arrive.
In October this year, we celebrated our 45th anniversary. We couldn’t have imagined most of what our lives have become, but we know Who holds our future, and that faith has both carried us through and worked out all things for our good.

Intentional steps bring opportunities that alter destinies.
In February, Philip obtained a position as a Research Engineer, after the persevering quest of 7 years and 840 job applications. We helped move him to Webster, NY and unload the truck during a winter squall off Lake Ontario with -10° windchill and near-whiteout conditions!

A strong sense of purpose overrides the pain of fulfilling it.
The bold statements in this post come from several of the chapter openings in Stepping Stones: our pathfinding adventure with Asperger’s. In it, we share how we hadn’t planned to be pioneers in an arduous journey—but that’s where we have found love, courage, hope, faith, learning, humor, growth, failure, trial, and triumph—everything that rounds out a life well-lived.

Only by overcoming challenges to my progress do I advance toward it.
Stepping Stones is a trail guide of hope for all the parents and caregivers of children who: appear to have advantages, but somehow do not; want to be happy and fit in, but largely cannot; yearn to be treated respectfully, but usually are not.

I affirm the worth of my potential and progress toward a favorable future.
Despite advances in diagnoses, therapies and other accommodations, many systemic inequities against the neurodivergent remain to be dismantled. This book introduces the concepts required to continue organizational change. And to all parents and caregivers of children with Autism Spectrum Disorder, this true tale offers pragmatic guidance, self-help encouragement, and real reason for hope.

Ignorance imprisons the mind, but learning liberates the spirit.
Philip wrote the last chapter of the book, recounting the life lessons he learned in grad school and in securing a full-time job. He also created the back cover artwork and others in the book. Produced by solving and plotting the results of hundreds of millions of polynomial equations, and then stacked and colorized, he’s named this type of mathematical art “polyplots.”

Sit in peace. Stand on principle. Soar with purpose.
Stepping Stones is available in print or ebook through our website timandcarolherd.com, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and other booksellers.

We believe in the message our little memoir contains, and we’re trying to reach as many people as possible. We are available for speaking to groups and for book signings. If you are an active Amazon customer, you can post a review, regardless of where you have purchased the book.

We offer this story of our experience to the great range of parents, caregivers, therapists, and support networks—as well as those who are on the autism spectrum themselves—as our like-missioned, kindred spirits. And we thank you for your support.

Marking a fateful day

the 60th anniversary of President Kennedy’s assassination

“Where were you when you heard Kennedy was shot?” is the question that expressed my generation’s first defining communal catastrophe experience.

November 22, 2023 marks the 60th anniversary of that tragic, history-turning assassination.

Last month my wife and I visited Dallas, Texas for a professional conference, and discovered that we were within walking distance of the site of the shooting—the infamous Dealey Plaza.

On that fateful day, the President’s motorcade through the downtown made a sharp left onto Elm Street. At a speed of 11 mph, it started a gradual descent toward a railroad overpass. The front of the Texas School Book Depository was on the President’s right, and he waved to the crowd as he passed. Dealey Plaza, an open landscaped area at the western end of downtown Dallas, stretched out to the President’s left.

Seconds later several shots resounded in rapid succession. Lee Harvey Oswald, captured a few hours later inside the Texas Theater, was taken into custody under suspicion as the sniper who fired from the sixth floor of the Book Depository Building, and also for the murder of Dallas Police Officer J.D. Tippit following the very public incident.

Throughout the afternoon and evening, Oswald was subjected to a series of lineups and questioning by the Dallas Homicide and Robbery Bureau. At 1:30 am the following morning, he was arraigned before the Justice of the Peace for the murder of President Kennedy. Questioning resumed several times later that day. As he was being brought to the Captain’s office for a final round of questioning the next day, Oswald was shot and killed by nightclub owner, and alleged associate of the Chicago Outfit mafia organization, Jack Ruby.

The Warren Commission, subsequently established by President Johnson, in its 888-page final report, concluded that Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone to assassinate the president; and that Jack Ruby also acted alone when he killed Oswald two days later.

In our visit to the historic site last month, we discovered that Dealey Plaza and the surrounding landscaping and buildings remain quite similar to how they appeared 60 years ago. The Book Depository is now the Dallas County Administration Building. Its sixth floor houses a museum, but access to the window of the one-time “sniper’s nest” is purposely blocked off by an exhibit.

On the street below, a total of three large yellow Xs mark the locations where the killer’s bullets ended their trajectories, a promising future of a popular President, and a more optimistic era for the nation itself.

The former Texas School Book Depository Building where Lee Harvey Oswald shot President Kennedy from the sixth floor right-most window.
In this image, two large, overlapping Xs show the location in the street where the first two shots reached the open convertible the President was riding. The famous “Grassy Knoll” of the 1963 reports refer to the small sloping grassy area on the left.
During our visit to Dallas, we took in the view of its expansive skyline from 470 feet high atop Reunion Tower. The circled area includes the Dallas County Administration Building (formerly the Book Depository), the small “grassy knoll” to its left, the street where the President was assassinated, and the triangular open space of Dealey Plaza in the foreground.

For the record: I was in second grade in November 1963, and on the way home from school, our bus driver informed us all that the President had been shot. At home, I burst into the house to break the awful news, but my parents were already following the live reports on our black-and-white television. Two days later, my mom was watching when Ruby killed Oswald on live TV. Even as a mere 7-year-old, I was captivated by the horrific drama.

Horse & Buggy Accident: The Return

going back in time doesn’t always match going back in mind

Yesterday Carol and I returned to the scene of our most memorable accident, when our entire family was in a horse and buggy accident at Old Bedford Village in 1989.

We were riding in an enclosed “bus wagon” pulled by Queenie, who, when she emerged from the woods into an open area, was spooked by a kite. She took off, and despite wearing blinders, ran gaping up at the sky, and never saw the building she ran into. The old buggy crumpled into the porch, and we all landed on Carol, who hurt her leg. The camera around my neck took a vicious swipe at my forehead. Before the buggy fell completely on its side, some onlookers held it up at an angle, and we were able to pass the kids out through the side window. Old Bedford Village trundled us off to the hospital for an hours-long checkup, and when we returned to the Village that evening, they quickly refunded our admission. And they followed up on our welfare for the next several weeks. See this post for the thrilling details.

Even in a historical village, a lot can change over 34 years. No one works there now who was there then, but those we told the story to were all fascinated. We learned that Queenie’s son, Prince, was their resident horse for many years, but now they have a different one. They no longer drive cows through the village, and no longer give horse and buggy rides, because they can’t afford the liability insurance.

We think we identified the building of the accident, but it too looks different from 34 years ago. Also, the site manager told us that there are several buildings that they had to tear down over the years, so maybe it doesn’t exist anymore.

Still, we enjoyed the return on an uncrowded day, visiting yesteryear’s common facilities, tools and routines. Without a horse and buggy ride.

da Vinci, Genius

insatiably curious, relentlessly observant

I recently learned quite a bit about the self-taught polymath and world-renown genius Leonardo da Vinci, in an excellent biography by Walter Isaacson.

In it I discovered that Leonardo was the illegitimate firstborn son of Piero, in a long line of Florentine notaries. He lived with his birth mother and was apprenticed to the artist Verrocchio in Florence. He was a dandy dresser, favoring rose-colored robes. He was a disdaining contemporary of Michaelangelo (“He paints like a sculptor”), a friend of Nicolo Macchiavelli, and spent the better part of his life seeking patronage from provincial rulers to do the things he wanted to do. He earned a reputation for not finishing works, preferring instead to follow his interests, rather than his commissions.

As an artist, da Vinci is famous for his ability to convey lifelike motion with emotion in his subjects, and as the painter of The Last Supper and the Mona Lisa masterpieces. But his insatiable curiosity and keen observations led to many innovative concepts in art, entertainment, nature, science, geometry, architecture, urban design, engineering, hydraulics, and anatomy, to name just several.

How many other artists do you know who dissect cadavers to learn first-hand what muscles control movements in their subjects? He studied the actual mechanisms that transmit emotions into facial expressions. On one sheet of the ever-present notebooks he clipped to his robes is an anatomical sketch of a pair of lips that seem to suggest a just a hint of a mysterious smile, which resurfaced in his most famous portrait.

But what fascinates me about his anatomical studies is his intuitive leap to connect what he observed in natural stream flow with the internal biological workings of the human heart. Informed by his love of hydraulic engineering, fluid dynamics, and his fascination with swirls and eddies, he made a discovery about the aortic valve that was not fully appreciated for centuries. In 1510, he correctly concluded in that eddies in the blood in the widened section of the aorta were responsible for closing the valve it just passed through.

The common view, which was held by most heart specialists for another 450 years, was that the valve was pushed shut from above once enough blood had rushed into the aorta and began to back up. Most other valves work that way, closing when the flow begins to reverse. But in the 1960s, a team of medical researchers at Oxford used dyes and radiography methods to observe blood flows. The experiments showed that the valve required “a fluid dynamic control mechanism which positions the cusps away from the wall of the aorta, so the slightest reversed flow will close the valve.” That mechanism, they realized, was the vortex of swirling blood that Leonardo had discovered in the aorta root.

In 1991, the Carolina Heart Institute showed how closely the Oxford experiments resembled the ones Leonardo had described in his notebooks. And in 2014, another Oxford team was able to study blood flow in a living human, using magnetic resonance techniques, to prove conclusively that Leonardo was right.

Despite his ground-breaking discoveries and insightful futuristic fancies, Leonardo seemed motivated to accumulate knowledge for its own sake, rather than to be recognized as a scholar or to influence history. He largely left his trove of treatises unpublished. Over the years, and even centuries, his discoveries had to be rediscovered by others. Isaacson concludes, “The fact that he didn’t publish served to diminish his impact on the history of science. But it didn’t diminish his genius.”

I highly recommend the book: you’ll be amazed at the scope of da Vinci’s work, and perhaps, like me, inspired to be more curious and observant.

Wined & Dined

in the Cradle of Liberty’s most iconic places and spaces

This past week I had the honor to be included in a bit of wining and dining by the City of Philadelphia making its pitch to host my profession’s national conference in 2026. That will be the year of our nation’s 250th Anniversary, and the Cradle of Liberty was polishing its shine for us.

My colleagues and I were treated to whirlwind of visits to the convention center, hotels, and venues capable of hosting several hundred to eight thousand people during what would be a spectacular week full of professional development, learning, and networking.

From the thirty-third floor of the Loews Hotel we gaped at the Philly’s distinctive skyline and riverfront. We toured the expansive Pennsylvania Convention Center, inhabiting the old station of the Reading Railroad (of Monopoly fame). Reflective of that legacy, its grand entrance area depicts the iron rails still leading to the stopblock columns at the end of the line.

We swung by Love Park, Boathouse Row, and the Eakins Oval, where we met the artist painting a 450’ x 75’ mural about Ben Franklin and his kite on a sometimes-parking lot. We lunched at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Its most popular sculpture of Rocky Balboa, now moved to the bottom side of its iconic front stairway, still draws 200,000 people a year.

We toured the Tustin Rec Center, where its new basketball court memorializes Kobe Bryant and his daughter Gianna. Tustin’s playground is where the former Los Angeles Lakers star frequented when he was younger, and the refurbished court is now making the sport more accessible to children in a safe environment.

We skipped through the Reading Terminal Market (an eclectic and busy gastronomic bazaar of more than 80 merchants), dropped in at the Barnes Museum, called on Ben at the Franklin Institute, and viewed the Fels Planetarium.

But my most memorable moment was a well-appointed evening meal in the National Constitution Center with a grand, inspirational view of Independence Mall. Facing “America’s Most Historic Square Mile” containing Independence Hall, The Liberty Bell, Franklin Court, Declaration House, and many more historically significant sites, I was both enthralled and grateful just to be there.

A Man of Many Faces

Looking just as I remember

Recently rediscovered in my cache of things inherited from my maternal grandparents is this simple series of paper-covered wood blocks. Depicting the forehead, eyes and ears, nose and mouth, and neck and upper chest, this vintage toy’s four interchangeable blocks can be arranged into dozens of kooky faces for pure entertainment and inspirational imagination.

It was a toy Grandma kept at her house for when my brother and I visited. She kept it in a small pasteboard box that originally contained an Airguide DIXON desk thermometer-hygrometer, which was undoubtedly my Pappy’s, and which is also undoubtedly lost to time.

But time was the very gift this vintage toy afforded: in my childhood, an escape to creative imagination and fine motor development in our chubby little fingers; and to my grandma, a respite to catch her breath from our incessant activity. And today, a snatch of time travel: back to the simple, carefree days at Grandma’s house.

Historic Hilltop Cemetery

from there you can see eternity

Last Saturday we skipped over two ridges and two valleys amid central Pennsylvania’s corrugated countryside to purchase some perennials.

On our way, we enjoyed the scenery of both the Rothrock State Forest on the mountains and the productive farmlands in the valleys – taking special note of how neatly these farmsteads are maintained: no junk, no weeds, no untrimmed borders, no peeling paint, nor even any disorganized equipment of any kind.

We had entered Amish country. Our main destination was a particular greenhouse known for its abundance and variety of home-grown plants. Its parking area included places for non-motorized vehicles. It is owned and tended by polite, plainly-clothed Amish men and women, who, when they converse with each other, use their own dialect. They take cash or check, but no debit or credit cards. And they’re not open on Sunday.

On our way back north, we noticed a simple sign pointing to “Historic Hilltop Cemetery” and hung a right onto an S-curving dirt road leading up a conical hill with an enclosed split-rail fence at the summit. The grooved dirt eventually petered out to a grassy path between crop fields near the top. The view was spectacular and better than these pictures show. And like the rest of its well-tended surroundings, the cemetery was immaculate.

We discovered the gravestone of Captain William McAlevy, veteran of the Revolutionary War (b. 1728, d. 1822, aged 94.) In 1778, he had built a nearby fort, whose name lives on today in the unincorporated village of McAlevy’s Fort. We also noticed the headstones of a few soldiers of the Grand Army of the Republic, from Civil War days.

What a special spot for a peaceful place to spend an eternity! We respect those who had gone on before for their part in our nation’s history, and to those who today tend their graves, allowing folks like us to visit and appreciate.

Satisfying ventures in Hershey, Pa.

some reflection on jobs well done

One of the roles of my job is to host an annual statewide conference for the professional development and networking of our members. This year’s production took place last month in Hershey, Pennsylvania, where we were gratified to see our attendance reach our normal pre-covid levels (and distribute a staggering amount of chocolate!). As usual, the conference was the culmination of a year’s worth of planning and preparations, and resulted in a productive, but intense time of collegial sharing and learning. By its completion, I was completely “talked-out” and need some quiet, recuperative, alone time.

So after we’d packed up our materials to head home, I took a side trip by myself to The Hershey Story Museum on downtown’s Chocolate Avenue. (Yes—downtown Hershey’s streetlamps are fashioned like the iconic Hershey Kisses!) Fortunately, the museum wasn’t crowded at that time, and afforded me a couple of hours to leisurely stroll through the exhibits, communing, but not conversing.

Some years ago, I had read an excellent biography on Hershey, and learned a good bit about his life, and extrapolated some character- and business-building lessons for my own edification. See this Sweet Inspirations! blog post.

The Museum really does its founder well. Its interactive, engaging, fun, and modern exhibits depict the comprehensive story of Milton S. Hershey’s life and the history of his picturesque, namesake town.

As an 8-yr-old Cub Scout, I remember touring the original chocolate factory, and witnessing the actual transformation of cocoa into chocolate before my seeing, smelling and tasting senses! Alas, the days of tourists in the actual factory, however, are long-gone; although its modern accommodation is a Disney-esque ride through Hershey’s Chocolate World—complete with strolling Hershey bar characters, swooshing of liquid “chocolate,” and singing animatronic cows, before depositing you in a chock-filled candy and merchandise gift shop.)

The Museum was all I needed at that moment: Peaceful. Engaging. Reflective. Unhurried. I enjoyed viewing the machinery used at the original factory, the interactive displays, the stories of the early business failures and successes, and the images and artifacts from the founding of a bit of utopia in the fertile farmlands of 1903.

Like other industrialists of his era, Milton Hershey envisioned his company town as a model enclave, removed from the influences of the big city. But he brought a more beneficent corporate paternalism to his project than many of his contemporaries. A sign above his desk read, “Business is a Matter of Human Service,” which he apparently took to heart.

Spending lavishly on the town, he provided well-equipped houses for workers to buy, free education through a junior college, and even an amusement park and a zoo. I learned from the museum, that he encouraged his workers to start their own businesses, even if they competed against him. One H.B. Reese, who worked in the Hershey dairy farm, took him up on the idea, and independently created and sold Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups from just down the street, using Hershey chocolate in his confections. Forty years later in 1963, his sons amicably sold the business to The Hershey Company.

Before I left the museum for my long drive home, I enjoyed a well-made Reuben sandwich from the in-house Lisa’s Café, savoring the peaceful atmosphere surrounding several jobs well-done.

The abandoned ruins of Scotia Barrens

of pastimes and past times

The other day we took a short trip to the abandoned ruins of nearby Scotia Barrens, tucked away in the mixed hardwoods of central Pennsylvania. We’d heard about them, but didn’t know anything of their origins.

Our directions were to enter at the gate (which one?) and stay to the left at each branch of the trail. We apparently lucked out on our first pick, and found ruins within a few minutes of walking in the early spring woods.

Our first discovery was the concrete block outline of an old square foundation, that still had some duffy steps cut down into the ground in what may have been a cold cellar. But there were few clues to anything else of its history.

But soon, the brightly-glaring graffiti on a concrete structure caught our eyes through the green-tinted brown: an odd-shaped, rusting, reinforced concrete collection of columns and plates with an interior pit, leading to what appeared to be an old spillway.

On either side of this structure were two tall narrow berms that were higher than the top of the structure. Could it be a railway line that permitted an emptying of hopper cars? Yet if there had been a trestle, there was no trace of it. The berms sloped down on either side to the valley floor in 200 feet or so. Clearly they were manmade, and, judging from the size of the trees growing on them, was abandoned some 60-75 years ago.

Leading a hundred feet in the opposite direction from the incongruous concrete skeleton were parallel lines of squat, square posts, each bristling with a stubby, rusty rebar or two. At the other end of this dotted line was another superstructure, likewise decorated in lively graffiti and mystery.

As we headed back to the gate, we met an old man wearing a blaze orange sweatshirt and a white beard scraggling all the way down his neck, and his border collie named Duke. We asked him if he knew anything about the ruins, and he declared he sure did!

His is the only house on the nearby road, we learned. Duke thinks the whole property is his backyard, and the old man allowed that he lets him believe it.

He told us that the structures were from the 1940s when the place was open-mined for iron ore, and washed out of the ground. The berms were to retain mud from flooding away. But the earlier industry was logging to create charcoal the nearby Centre Furnace. In the 1880s, Andrew Carnegie purchased the land and was the first to employ steam shovels to dig an open pit for ore. (“Did you see the pit?” No? Well, follow me!”) Carnegie sold out to a local company in 1890, who eventually shut down operations in 1909. And within a few years, Scotia became a ghost town. Except for its brief respite in the 1940s to meet the World War 2 demand for iron, its days of being reclaimed by nature have continued ever since. The land is now preserved as Pennsylvania State Game Lands 176.

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