The Journey Begins

Can childhood memories inspire a retired writer and editor to create a lively and interesting blog? Come along with me deep into the last century and let's see.

As her young son watched closely, Dorothy Gray Zapadka deftly added colors to an assortment of paint-by-number pictures. It was the start of her artist career in the early 1960s.

Before long, my mother left behind the numeric coloring guides, and began doing paintings of her own, many of which won ribbons and other prizes in local competitions. Soon, she graduated to creating pottery, though I much preferred her paintings.

And in what seemed like a jiffy, my dear Dorothy was president of the Ellwood City Art Club. It was a highly successful and active organization in my hometown in Western Pennsylvania. I remember a bevy of inspiring art that was produced.

My mother was the leader of that pack. I was so proud.

While I like to say artistic talent ran in my family, I point out quickly that the talent ran out before it got to me. Honestly, drawing a stick figure is a challenge.

So since I could not follow along my mother's artistic path, I began to write, somewhat in earnest about 1967. I remember an off-the-top-of-my-head story I penned one day during a study hall. Then, it was gone. I must have dropped it from my notebook; maybe I threw it away.

But in a stroke of fortune, I found it: It was printed in the Beaver Falls (Pa.) News Tribune!

Thanks to Mrs. McMurdy.

My beloved journalism instructor at Riverside High School submitted my story to the newspaper, which ran it in an education section. While it was my first published story, certainly it was not to be my last.

With Mrs. McMurdy's strong encouragement, I enrolled in 1971 at Point Park College in Pittsburgh. I learned and grew in and out of the classroom in four years, and in 1976, I landed a job at the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.

From clerical duties in the PG library and newsroom, I went on to covering high school to college sports. During the Pittsburgh newspaper strike of the 1990s, I was the senior producer for the short-lived Post-Gazette Radio Network. We supplied news reports to an array of regional stations.

I evolved to become an editor of several of the newspaper's suburban editions. Later, I wrote about coal mine closures and politics. I wrote about the demotion of Pluto to the status of dwarf planet. I broke the story about Myron Cope, a revered local sportscaster, having an asteroid named in his honor. And using local and foreign contacts, I covered an international story about a meteor exploding over a Russian city. Finally, I was the editor of breaking news on the newspaper's website, the most widely read website in Western Pennsylvania.

It was 2014, and when I reached this pinnacle of my career, I retired. Good luck came my way, and I married a beautiful woman, Amy. We moved to Palm Harbor on the Gulf Coast of Florida where we live with a feisty dog named Bailey.

Trust me, that puppy is another, uh, tale.

But the days pass quickly, and one laboriously looks like another. So like my mother so many years ago, I am searching for a creative outlet. I'm returning to what I call recreational writing, a concept with which I explored briefly in the late 1990s.

On to this latest endeavor. Who knows the subjects I may broach?

I am a lifelong amateur astronomer (but please, no astrology!), so my head always is in the stars. As a historian, I have explored the Mason-Dixon Line and more. My heart always yearns for the great outdoors; I have been the leader of many wildflower walks in West Virginia and Pennsylvania. Indeed, I never backed down when someone said, “Take a hike!” Oh, the music I enjoy – mostly sans the human voice and songs that reach into one's soul.

I invite you to come along on this journey. It may be temporary. It may be permanent. I can't wait to see what we find!