Issue 2

Underfunded: quit your job, be your own boss, jason sauer will help.

Rumshpringa In Space: an amish youth goes to college in the year 2086.

Girls Rock!: young ladies of pittsburgh step up to the mic.

Professor Buzzkill: hunting for bodies in the george westinghouse bridge.

Because Sports: pittsburgh’s a lonely town when you’re the only miami dolphins fan.

And a crossword puzzle, too.

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STEEL THIS fall 2016

STEEL THIS CROSSWORD: daniel finan tickles your curiosity and dusts off that brain of yours.

30

Amish In the Space Age: an obligatory right of passage tears an amish family apart.

34

Underfunded: Entrepreneurism 101 a peek into your future beyond the rat race.

contents

8

girls rock! pittsburgh shows us just what girls can do.

20 44

Bodies Buried in The George Westinghouse Bridge?

BECAUSE SPORTS: a look into the blasphemous mind of one of pittsburgh’s biggest sports fans.

has the cold wheel of progress turned over some of our fallen forefathers? professor buzzkill tells all.

54

Steel This Magazine needs your help. Writers, Photographers, Salespeople... we need you! If you’re a creative, or if you simply have some good story ideas, please reach out to: John@SteelThisMag.com to get involved.

Staff:

Publisher - John Dubosky Editor In Chief - Ernie Pantusso Creative Director/Graphic Design - Kelli Koladish Head of Photography - Brian Volinic Contributing Writers - Bob Stallsmith, Jennifer Klountz, Amy M Edwards, Professor Buzzkill Crossword Puzzle - Daniel Finan

STEEL THIS MAGAZINE

Polish Hill | 814.574.8124 | SteelThisMag.com

C K RO Summer Camp:

And

RO

How Girls Rock! Pittsburgh is giving young women a glimpse into a world of music beyond the patriarchy.

By: Amy M Edwards Photos by: Amy Garbark and Amy M Edwards

nd

OLL Nasim

of the band pun-ishers

Ella

of the band Puppies & Kittens

I

nclusivity and compromise are the tacit, unspoken and often most beautiful aspects of music making. While experience and talent vary greatly among young musicians, undiscriminating trial and error leads most to discovering their unique musical styles. Navigating the world of band organization, finding one’s voice, and collaboration can be qualities elusive to these young musicians, particularly for those whose musical tastes may differ from the curriculum taught in schools.

Fortunately for young girls in Pittsburgh, there’s a group of musicians who have formed a summer camp dedicated exactly to those core principals.

In an electric whirlwind week-long summer camp, the participants of Girls Rock! Pittsburgh come together to form bands in order to learn new instruments, compose and record original songs, and ultimately perform with other rock star campers before a live audience of friends, families, and fans at the conclusion of the week. To accompany their new bands and original compositions, campers further collaborate to design band logos and even screen print their own merchandise— sporting names like Midnight Monkeys, Rainbow Rock, and Power Outage.

“My best memory wasn’t really a memory, it was kind of just a feeling. This feeling of empowerment and happiness. It’s really great to meet these awesome girls who have gone through the same things as you, to just dance around, and not care what anyone thinks,” said Lucha Batera, 12, a camp alumni.

FALL 2016

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GR!Pgh is open to self-identified girls ages 8-18 (3rd-12th grade) and beyond musical collaboration also offers a space in which to build confidence and challenge gender stereotypes. Past camp workshops have included Healthy Relationships, Self Defense, and Image and Identity. Reflecting on her experience with GR!Pgh, Batera added, “ I’d get a little nervous walking in the first day and then realize, ‘oh wait, everyone here is awesome and doesn’t really care what I’m wearing or what I look like,’ so that’s always a cool feeling.”

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During her three summers with GR!Pgh, Batera gained proficiency in drums, guitar, and singing with her bands — Fearless Five, Frozen Shadows, and Crystal Rain. “I felt very empowered, I just really felt I could take on the world,” said Batera. Her perspective is reaffirming and in line with the mission of GR!Pgh. Their website states, “We believe: Girls can play any kind of music they want.

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The Pittsburgh chapter of GR!Pgh represents but one verse of a much larger musical movement. Originally established in Portland, Oregon in 2007 as The Rock ‘n’ Roll Camp for Girls, the fresh voices and raw energy could not be contained and quickly grew into a network now known as The Girls Rock Camp Alliance, or GRCA, which is now made up of over 60 camps worldwide, each with their own unique identity and method of operation.

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Lucha Batera performi

ng with Eye Roll

Svea

of the band Pun-ishers

Elena

of the band Fierce Fire

empower girls to recognize, understand, and respond to discrimination. “Girls Rock!” is more than just a slogan.”

The empowerment of the GR!Pgh experience is not limited to campers alone. Adult organizers, teachers, and guest performers also express amplified personal power, self confidence, and inspiration following their involvement with the camp.

Tilley Hawk, self proclaimed, GR!Pgh ‘mystery-solving musician and cheerleader,’ volunteered with GR!Pgh in 2014 and 2015 as a guest performer and mentor. In this role, she could provide campers with the perspective, empowerment, and support of an accomplished musician.

Hawk told us when she was coming of age there simply weren’t enough options for her. “There was no opportunity for women in this scene, and with only a handful of us, it was difficult to break-in. There were not female role models available, no one to talk to face to face,” she recalled. “GR!Pgh provides a platform for campers to witness

women working together in a way that is distinctly separate from the patriarchy. Girls Rock! is like an incubator that provides campers the tools and information that they can take and make their own.”

In this way, Hawk believes that the counselors get to “pay back/pay forward” that which they did not have access to in the past as active participants in this process.

Her first performance in front of the campers in 2014 was notably empowering for her, also. It was her first time performing in front of an audience playing the ukulele, an instrument that she had just begun to master, akin to the campers experiencing new instruments that week. Her most memorable moment of her involvement occurred in 2015 after performing for campers directly following their Self-Defense class; the piece she performed included animal sounds as vocals and she asked the campers to practice their wolf howls along with her song. All joined in to form a “cacophony of howling from a wolf pack of little girls, all howling together and practicing their wolf magic.

FALL 2016

15

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“It isn’t so much about the sound or ability, but more about the expression, about standing up and saying your piece,” Hawk affirms.

The GR!Pgh approach to creative expression and independence is radical in design and execution. Hawk likens the process to direct action and outlines the ways in which GR!Pgh creatively subverts the typically male-dominated rock music scene.

“Oftentimes, when looking at large problems within societal structures, it is very difficult to figure out solutions while looking at such a large system that is in place. In playing by their rules, it is difficult to find change, and you often find yourself back in their pocket.

GR!Pgh plays by its own rules and thus finds itself outside of these structures. It uses music and puts the power directly in the hands of those who want to use it. GR!Pgh creates its own space, occupies its own space outside of the box, and refuses to play by [their] rules.

This is proof that direct action has an effect.”

Rock on.

The 2016 GR!Pgh Camp kicked off on August 1st at Winchester Thurston’s Lower School with their showcase

performance on August 6th in the school’s auditorium. 10+ camp bands performed songs composed over the course of the week. This year, the group was comprised of 60 campers, up from the original 30 they hosted in their first year, 2013.

With increased attendance and support, GR!Pgh can now offer assistance in the form of reduced or waived tuition for everyone who needs it, no questions asked. In 2015, over half of their campers received waived or reduced tuition.

In addition to their annual camp, a GR!Pgh vocal coach has begun hosting monthly open mic nights. Held on the 4th Monday evening of every month at the Union Project, the stage is “open to any self-identified girl (aged 8-18) who would like to share a song, poetry, or spoken word in a supportive, safe, and fun environment. Participation is NOT limited to previous GR!Pgh campers, and collaborations and works-in-progress are welcome. They will have a few instruments (electric and acoustic guitars and a keyboard) available, but participants are also free to bring their own.

Check the GR!Pgh Facebook for updates on the monthly Open Mic nights.

To stay abreast of when Girls Rock! Camp 2017 applications go live, sign up for their newsletter via their website: girlsrockpittsburgh.org or follow them on social media: Facebook: www.facebook.com/GirlsRockPittsburgh Instagram: girlsrockpittsburgh Twitter: @GirlsRockPgh

FALL 2016

16

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Tallulah

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R E D N U D E D N FU Step One In Unlocking Your Inner Entrepreneur.

For Cheapsies.

A Steel This Magazine exclusive with Jason Sauer of Pittsburgh’s Most Wanted Fine Art. By: John Dubosky

: D the man with the plan: JASON SAUER Artist, community organizer, and Jack of all trades, Sauer knows how to get stuff done. He’s also learned a thing or two about teaching others after years of training workers in the Learn to Earn Program (an initiative started by Sauer which we profiled in the September 2016 Issue of Steel This Magazine). Here he is with a crash-course we’re calling, “Entrepreneurism 101: Escaping the Rat Race.” Our first escape route: founding your own landscaping company.

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1. weed eater: gas powered with a straight shaft. lowest price in pittsburgh: $129.00. this is an essential tool in your arsenal of lawntrimming accouterments; no landscaper is prepared without it.

2. pickaxe:

perhaps the most bad ass member of the team, these can be got for as little as $29.90. this will enable you to break apart everything from root systems to stubborn rocks and pieces of cement.

3. leaf blower: 4560 McKnight Rd Pittsburgh 412.931.4332 BlueWaveAutoSpa.com

once again, you're after a gas powered, handheld device. the cheapest we found was $49.97. a big part of a decent landscaping job is keeping it neat and tidy. this blower will save you lots of time and effort while gussying up for the homeowner.

4. loppers:

branches, roots, and anything else too big for handheld shears gets the loppers. they're inexpensive and indispensable: $32.97.

FALL 2016

22 STEELTHISMAG.COM

the lineup: The items we priced were consistently more affordable second hand on Craigslist and other crowdsourced trading sites, but if you prefer something straight from the factory that comes with a warranty of any kind, the big box stores offer the lowest prices. As always, if you can afford a few more dollars here and there, we suggest you procure your wares from a local mom and pop construction supply, there are still plenty floating around like Dobosh Center and Rollier’s Hardware.

If you’re going to run a successful business you’ll need as much support from your community as you can get, so a ‘pay it forward’ mentality is a great thing to have right about now.

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5. broom: at least 15' wide and make sure it's sturdy. not a dollar store purchase. we found decent bristles for as low as: $9.97.

6. rake:

when fall really sets in you'll be thrilled you have one. get one that's steel, at least 24 tines. you can pick it up for as little as $19.97.

7. gas powered push lawnmower with bag attachment:

the most important piece of the pie. we found one for $199.00 at lowes.

the rest:

you'll need a few more items to get the business up and running. be sure to pick up a tarp for clippings, ($44.98). pick up a hedge trimmer, hand held and gas powered ($109), and get two gas cans ($12.97 each) - one can for 2-stroke gas, one for unleaded. also, pick up a round-point digging shovel ($9.97), and a wheel barrow ($49.97).

FALL 2016

23 STEELTHISMAG.COM

@IRONLUNGPGH 4609 LIBERTY AVE. BLOOMFIELD

412.291.8928

B

efore you start charging people, you’ll also need to register your business with the PA Department of Revenue at www.Revenue.Pa.Gov. There, you’ll also find useful literature like a beginners’ guide to starting a business in Pennsylvania. You’ll also want to open a bank account for the business once you’ve been approved by the state. Some banks like Citizens Bank will file for your business’ Tax Identification Number free of charge.

Find a graphic designer. You can even offer a trade of services with them and possibly get your design done in exchange for lawn mowing. Design some flyers that let people know how much you’re charging and the services you provide. A good list to start with contains things like grass cutting, leaf raking, snow removal, debris hauling (once you’re using a vehicle), bush trimming, and mulching. Once you get your foot in the door with these services, homeowners will likely ask for other services like painting, drywall work, or various demolition projects. A $15.00 per lawn flyer may land you a much larger and long term job. As far as pricing goes, the industry experts tell us a good rule of thumb is $1.00/minute. So, a lawn that takes 45 minutes to cut and cleanup (hence a $45.00 charge) can eventually be done in less time once you have a routine down. Soon, you can start finishing those jobs in 25 or 35 minutes and increase your earning potential.

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So, you’ve procured your tools, squared away with the government, designed your flyers, and opened a bank account. Now it’s time to get to work. Where do you start? First off, you’re going to need some clients, so it’s time for some old fashioned door knocking. A big savings here is the ability to work without a vehicle until you need to unload large amounts of waste. Staying local is a big part of that. Try to pick up eight lawns or more to service every 10 days. Make sure they’re all within a few blocks of each other. This season is a great time to sell Fall cleanup services where you can help clear brush, leaves, and other fallen debris from your neighborhood. It’s also a fine time to get those same properties to sign up for winter cleanup and maintenance (snow shoveling, salting sidewalks, etc.).

Once you’ve picked up some clients, start making your rounds. How can you do this without a truck? Simple, by keeping your clients hyper-localized, you can simply walk around town with what Sauer calls, “The Rig.” By strapping all of your tools to your push mower, you can save a ton of money in the beginning on gas, a truck, and all of the expenses that go along with those things. You will need a truck once every week or two to empty clippings, rubble, and other odds and ends from job sites. One can be rented in the city for as little as $75.00 + $0.35/mile.

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25 STEELTHISMAG.COM

It’s also important not to rush in the beginning. Just being in a neighborhood working is a good chance for your client’s neighbors to see you on the job. “You can pass out flyers until your arm falls off, but being in the lawn working is your best business card,” said Sauer. Keep your eyes peeled on your route for distressed lawns. Don’t jump from neighborhood to neighborhood, the longer you stay in an area, the less time you lose, the less gas you waste, and the stronger your marketing becomes.

It’s a good idea to invest in your referral system, as well. Get quotes from your happiest clients with pictures of their lawns to show new customers. Some homeowners may request up to three references, so ask permission to pass along your client’s contact information. Remember to ask for advice constantly. Ask your homeowners how they liked the work. Ask if there’s anything you could do for them in the future to improve.

Your tenacity and hard work will ultimately pay off in new referrals.

Depending on work load, every week or two you’ll need to dump your refuse. At the

Reserve Park Landfill, you can dump 1,500 pounds of concrete for $50.00. In Glenshaw, there’s a receptacle service for concrete that doesn’t charge anything called Glenshaw Concrete Recycling. The Pittsburgh municipality will accept leaves only for only a $20 money order and proof of city residence.

“You can pass out flyers until your arm falls off, but being in the lawn working is your best business card.” - Jason Sauer

Once you’ve been mowing for a season and have saved some money, it’s time for your next purchases, a 6-foot step ladder ($59.68), and an 18-foot extension ladder ($89.70). Now you can clean gutters without climbing on a roof and grow your list of services. As in most ventures, if you want to expand your revenue, a great idea is investing in more products to offer. The next purchase you make should be a gas powered chainsaw ($89.97) for tree trimming and cutting.

The vehicle will expand your service area, and your partner’s full-time help will effectively double your workforce.

As your services grow you’re going to need more help, as well as a more reliable transportation system than “The Rig.” A great way to take care of both of these at once is to bring a partner into the business.

Someone with a strong back and a truck can earn half of your business by bringing their truck and sweat equity to the table.

So there you have it. This is our crash course in starting your own landscaping venture.

Hopefully you’ve gleaned enough from our writing to at least encourage yourself to look into a life beyond the traditional nine to five. If you’ve got more tips for our readers that we’ve overlooked, drop us a line at mail@steelthismag.com.

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From then on out it’s a constant game of expanding, cutting costs, and offering more services. If you produce quality work, not only will more word of mouth referrals be passed your way, but your clients may invite you inside to perform general maintenance on their homes.

A n A d in S t e e l T h is M a g a z in e w il l g e t p e o p l e t o n o t ic e ,

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CROSSWORD

THE “IN” CROWD Across 1 Like a G.I. relegated to washing dishes

By: Daniel Finan 35 Genesis figure elated upon meeting Adam?

40 “Pizza face” condition

5 Slightly open

41 -2 on the links

9 STL or ARI squad

42 Pool location

14 Han ___

46 Cattle call

15 Ward of Hollywood

47 Half of Bennifer

16 “___ is never finished, only abandoned”: Paul Valery

50 Revolutionary Guevara cracking up?

17 Author Silverstein described with just a few words?

52 You can ford it

54 19 Common namesake for pizza 55 joints 57 20 Gambino family boss 58 21 Frank of the Mothers of 60 Invention

Abbr. for like things Makes cryptic Jack of “The Great Dictator” Style of jacket 50’s prez winning in a landslide election?

23 With 30-Down, treat with chocolate and wafers

62 Sketchy character

24 It’s working when it’s breaking down

64 Wiesel who wrote “Night”

63 Basso Pinza 3 Always tripping, say

33 Who must be obeyed?

65 English exam, sometimes

4 ___ mouth

35 Disperses

26 Magazine tycoon making a personal appearance?

66 Cravings

5 Gray matter?

36 Adds nutrients to, as flour

28 Boca burger ingredient

67 Winter wonderland conveyance

6 “Aw, c’mon, man!”

29 Rub the wrong way 31 ___ Pie

7 ___ once (suddenly)

Down

32 “WANTED” sign name

1 Siouan speakers

8 California supermarket in “The Big Lebowski”

34 Suffix with “decor”

2 Pound-the-table denial

9 Wine container 10 Mil. address 11 Famed New York kicker 12 Call

Presented By:

13 Overwhelm (with), as affection 18 Happy as a clam, but not a happy camper 22 Church bench 25 Andrews of ESPN 27 Bounce

FALL 2016

37 Theatrical showoff 38 I problems?

39 Many 40 What a role call uncovers 43 ___ Wall Street (2011 movement) 44 Cry of surprise 45 Swim meet event 47 Hyde’s alter ego 48 Actress Kazan of “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” 49 Foreshadowed 51 Confiscate 53 Wheezing sounds 56 Largest human organ

30 See 23-Across

59 Stephen of “The Crying Game”

32 Turn away

61 Dawn deity

30 STEELTHISMAG.COM

CROSSWORD

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N K 10 11 12 A G A M 16 M I L A 19 E N T R 23 G E T 26 G E R 30 A R E Y 34 Z A G A E L O P R E 46 47 S P S 51 T A W 55 G I N A 59 O M A H 62 R E M I 65 E X A L D I 9

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Theme Answers The circled names are in their respective entries, so, for example, Author Silverstein described with just a few words would be SHEL in A NUTSHELL.

1

Fiction Spotlight:

noah’s raven

By: Jacob Haqq-Misra

A

s part of our commitment to promote fiction writing, Steel This Magazine presents an excerpt from the most recent offering from Dr. Jacob Haqq-Misra, Noah’s Raven.

We met Jacob during his time at Penn State University. He holds Ph.D.’s in Astrobiology and Meteorology, has completed a postdoctoral fellowship at the Rock Ethics Institute, and has published two science fiction books and more than a dozen scientific articles. He’s an editor for EARTH Magazine, and a founding member and research scientist at Blue Marble Space Institute of Science.

In his latest work, Noah’s Raven (Little Gray Books, 2016) HaqqMisra presents us with two protagonists whose stories are set in the future, about sixty years apart from one another. Their respective chapters fluctuate back and forth regaling the tales of Maddie Scarlet, a drug dealing adventurer, and Ezra Miller, an Amish kid studying science at a university during his Rumspringa.

In this excerpt, we join Ezra as he travels home on his Thanksgiving break to spend time with his family. As he and the elders gather around the feast table, we’ll witness what transpires as the future of the clan’s agriculture, interpersonal relationships, and faith are discussed.

Noah’s Raven is available on Amazon.com and NoahsRaven.net

An excerpt from: Noah’s Raven By: Jacob Haqq-Misra

I

t was the brink of dawn when Ezra heard the unmistakable sound of hooves colliding with ground and stood outside to wait for the approaching carriage. As the horse with its drawn black buggy atop wooden spoked wheels became more visible and audible, other students began to peer out their windows and stream along the sidewalks in anticipation of this foreign sight.

Ezra clenched his ďŹ ngers together and pressed his hands against his side, wishing that this spectacle would conclude without drawing more attention.

FALL 2016

35 STEELTHISMAG.COM

His cousin Eli has been tasked with the job of chauffeur, arriving at his school in morning’s earliest hours on the Monday before Thanksgiving. Eli and Ezra had been raised together as childhood friends because their mothers were sisters. Eli had lived only one year longer than Ezra, but he walked a life of matured outward perfection that made even the community elders envious with righteous delight.

As they grew older and apart from one another, the fruits of their labors became fodder for analysis among their parents, and Father and Mother both reminded Ezra constantly of the miraculous achievements of their blessed nephew Eli. The carriage drew closer, and the outline of Eli’s brimmed hat glinted as sunlight cast a patterned dance across the glass windowed door. More students had gathered now to observe, and Ezra could feel the burdensome load of their eyes upon his shoulders. Up to this point, most students had left Ezra alone or constrained their curiosity to muffled laughs, surprised gestures, and awkward questions. He wore the same clothes he always did, and he knew he walked differently from most of the others, but he usually found solace in his studies and was left unbothered. Now, with the imminent approach of his cousin draped in full Sunday regalia, he could do nothing but stand frozen to the floor as the arrival of his most familiar mode of transportation kept onlookers transfixed with stares of wonder and bewilderment.

Eli pulled up to the curb in front of Ezra along a marked side lane reserved for cars, buses, and cabs. He remained in the carriage for several minutes, collecting himself after his long journey through the night, and he made clear through feigned disinterest that there would be no performance to appease the chorus of staring faces. He opened the door with a firm hand that kept pace with the life he embraced. “Good morning, brother Ezra,” he said, standing nearly six feet straight with lean shoulders squaring his stance.

The qualifier was unnecessary, and Ezra’s simple reply, “Good morning, Eli,” would not be considered rude or worldly in their community. This had always been his preference even as a child, but he knew in this instance, from the slight movement in his cousin’s eyebrows, that he was already being cast as a wayward soul.

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“Are you ready to come home, brother?” he asked with repetition. He spoke the way he moved, with each motion cast in an asserting glide.

Ezra breathed deep and looked toward the carriage. “Yes, I am ready.” He had no luggage with him, but he knew that anything he needed would be at the farm.

His belongings here could stay until he returned. He resisted the temptation to survey his audience for signs of Trevor, knowing that his only friend was locked into a deep and impenetrable sleep.

“Then take your leave from this place, and let us depart,” said Eli, stepping back to resume his seat as driver. “We should reach home by nightfall.”

Ezra, like most others raised in the Order, had developed a repertoire of strategies for dealing with outsiders who did not understand his way of life. In most instances he could effectively ignore any crass stares or provocative jeers from passersby, and in the worst cases he would exchange the minimal quantity of words required to extricate himself from unwanted attention.

Today the stares again were from gawking strangers, but the source of his embarrassment was not the uninformed judgment diffusing through the air. He carried himself toward the carriage he had seen every Sunday since youth and pressed his hand on the door. He knew that technically the option was his to stay, but in reality there was no choice involved. With the feeling of falling back

“...you cannot simultaneously embrace the ways of men and the ways of God. You must choose to depart from this foolish quest of yours if you still want to live a good life.”

into the pit of a well after clawing up through murky depths to catch a breath of fresh air, Ezra gathered his remaining shreds of courage and placed himself inside the carriage.

Eli shut the door, and they lingered where they parked for a moment of sanctity as his cousin led them through a prayer for safe travel. Ezra bowed out of reverence but spoke nothing, praying silently in his own way for the return to be swift. Eli concluded as the horse neighed and set the carriage into motion. Ezra did not look back, nor to the sides, but kept his narrow focus straight ahead on the road. *** The day long ride from campus to the farm helped to put his mind back in context as Eli informed him of all the latest developments in their community. He patiently listened, as he was accustomed, absorbing the details of how each and every person in their family’s circle had behaved since summer’s end. Successes, failures, performances, quarrels, reconciliations, and concerns that Ezra had missed were now regurgitated as a form of oral tradition characteristic of their culture. As direct cousins they also had many friends in common, some of whom had already decided as adults to join the Order for life, and a few who were courting or even married. Ezra had not been away long enough to hear any news that surprised him, but this at least spared him the need for idle conversation later. The hours marched on through their outstretched tour across the backroads of Pennsylvania, the ultimate leaves of autumn refusing to yield, creating ample time to examine how their lives fared with those around them.

Thanksgiving was a cherished time for family, friends, and fellowship, and Ezra found himself grateful to be among familiar faces that he had known since birth. Father, Mother, Ruth, and his brothers all greeted him with a warm embrace when he arrived on Monday night, and he reverted to his familiar role in their pattern of life on the farm. He assisted with the chores that were usually required of him and crafted his words to elders as insurance for their continued respect.

No one said anything unusual to him when he returned, or even in the days that followed.

Mother cried tears of joy to have her boy at home, and Father nodded approvingly that his son had returned to solid ground. Ezra considered that his brothers or even his sister might be curious about his time away in the world, but they acted as if he had never been gone and resumed their usual patterns of behavior he had always known. Assorted cousins, aunts, uncles, and friends were in and out of the house as Thanksgiving day approached, and although Ezra was certain that everyone knew of his Rumspringa, they all indicated with transparent subtlety their preference to avoid this topic altogether.

The days were full of activity, and Ezra had little time to think about school or reminisce about the end of his visit. Everyone treated him as if he had returned to stay, and some of his more distant cousins and great uncles, who only traveled across the ridge to visit during holidays, urged him to think about marriage and baptism. Others would corner Ezra to regale over the stoic zeal of their ancestors or pontificate over forgotten episodes of scriptural lore. He accepted advice without argument to maintain their expectations, but he also took care to avoid commitment to actions he did not intend.

From the required maintenance to keep a farm alive to the murmuring undertones of company in greeting and farewell, Ezra spent the remaining few hours each day helping his parents play host to their neverending stream of guests.

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Thanksgiving Day arrived, and the Miller’s house swelled to capacity. Ezra’s family always hosted the annual meal, a tradition of the farm initiated long ago by their great grand-father. The yearly gathering included the expected crowd of Father’s three brothers and their wives, with a sum of seventeen children in tow. The Miller brothers all lived within a day’s walk of each other and visited often during the week, sometimes unexpectedly to borrow a tool or share important news. All his life Ezra recalls his three uncles as regular fixtures on the farm to lend a helping hand during the day or lead a prayer group at night, with hope to accumulate the erratic approval of their eldest brother.

His Aunt Rose attended with her husband and Eli, along with their four younger daughters. Rose was Mother’s closest relative, just two years younger, and the physical proximity of their homes fostered FALL 2016

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an unbreakable communion that aligned their wishes and intertwined their hearts into an inseparable will. As friends since birth through school and church, they navigated adolescence, courtship, baptism, marriage, pregnancy, and motherhood together to find the best way of life for their kin.

The sight of his growing cousins and aging elders reminded Ezra of earlier celebrations when he was still a child. The menu remained steadfast to please an expectant and traditional crowd, while even the farm itself was maintained with such staunch pride that refused to allow any signs of aging to show. As the gentle wither of older generations transitioned into a budding of the new, Ezra began to realize that the cousins he once knew as infants now admired him as an adult.

needed to accommodate their sixty-two dinner guests. His assembled collection of dishware appeared in seven distinct patterns and showcased styles spanning the past two hundred years. Rose and his other aunts arranged tables both proper and makeshift to ameliorate overflow from a dining room that could seat only twenty.

As tablecloths appeared, Ezra set out the proper arrangement of items at each place, folding each napkin with patience, and soon stood at the end to admire his efforts.

“Ezra, can you please set the table?”

He noticed his sister Ruth and several other women in the kitchen helping Mother prepare dinner, but his brothers were nowhere to be seen. All of the men and most of the boys were outside on a hike through the fields led by Father. Ezra walked to the window to try and catch a glance when he heard, “And can you help your Aunt fetch some chairs, dear?”

The calculated lilt in the tone of her voice carried the words as an imperative, but Ezra still responded, “Yes, Mother.”

He got to work and counted out the tall stack of plates and pile of cutlery

“Yes, Mother,” he replied. Ezra had always assumed this helpful role, and he usually gave little thought to this dynamic. He could not understand, though, why these requests were never made of his brothers, who seemed

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equally capable. Ezra busied himself as Mother and his aunts directed, and soon the accumulating aroma of fresh roasting meat and sweet steaming vegetables brought cries of delight from the kitchen that swiftly carried the men inside.

Everyone remained standing a respectful distance from tables as they bowed their heads in grace. Father led the prayer as the eldest member of the family, and he took the occasion to vocalize his thanks to God for their bountiful harvest and precious children. Although the protracted oration lost the attention of all but the most devout, Ezra could not help but notice that blessings were conferred upon his uncles, their wives, his distant relatives, Mother, his sister, and brothers all individually— but Ezra’s name was conspicuously absent from Father’s heavenly address. The conclusion of the Lord’s Prayer followed with a resounding chant of “Amen”, and the dinner feast began. ***

Father broached the subject as the tapering of the meal was supplemented with a tempting assortment of pies, cakes, cookies, and breads. “Ezra,” he said, preempted with a breath that drew attention, “explain to us all what you managed to learn about your eclipse.”

the word in silent contemplation. “It’s like dust in the sky. It makes the planet cooler, but a lot of other changes happen also. The eclipse looks dimmer now than it once did.”

His head hoped that this simple explanation would suffice, but his gut wrenched from realizing the truth.

Ezra’s hesitation was seen as all eyes turned to him. Aside from the youngest children who sat separately in the kitchen, his cousins, uncles, aunts, and elder friends all listened with keen ears and stern reservations. His heart pumped in tempo with his racing thoughts, and his body tensed as he forced out his words. “I learned that it is true,” he said, “our sky is changing.”

Father scoffed as his chin and chest bounced forward in a defensive display.

“Let the men of the world do what they will,” he said. “They have no power to alter the course of creation.”

Hushed whispers passed among his cousins, while their parents raised eyebrows with concerning frowns. Father widened his eyes in an impatient nod to continue, and Mother forced an obvious turn in her seat to face the wall instead of her son.

“They call it geoengineering,” he said, spelling out the syllables with protruded lips. He watched his family members mimic

“But it’s happening now,” said Ezra, tempering the growing excitement that he knew Father was trying to incite. Noting the edge of a smile on the patriarch, he added, “It affects our farming, too. The seasons have shifted now, and we can-not grow the way Grandfather did.”

“They have been changing the atmosphere for years now... It seems the men of this world wield tremendous power to do great deeds, both good and evil.”

“Again, he complains about our harvest,” Mother interjected with eyes tilted low.

“Ezra, this was a good year, and we have had many bountiful harvests since you were a baby. You always remember the hard years and forget about the good.”

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“I just mean,” he replied, “that the whole world is affected by this, and our future on this farm could become difficult.”

“The Lord provides us what we need each year, Ezra,” said Father with staunch reverence. “He will,” with added emphasis, “continue His ways regardless of how the men of the world behave.”

Ezra had no argument to Father on this, but his Aunt Rose continued the charge.

“Farming is complicated, Ezra,” she said with soothing craft, “you know this. Why would this not simply be cycles in growth as a natural part of God’s order?”

The clinking of utensils on dessert plates agreed with the line of questioning, and no one faulted Ezra as he looked to the ceiling in thought. His brief sojourn in college had taught him much, but his understanding of global affairs was still elementary.

He had started the requisite courses for certification as a skywatcher, which served as a replenishing fountain of knowledge to rejuvenate his parched curiosity.

Even in just three months, he learned

that the world’s leaders had agreed— in a treaty signed seven years ago—to embark on a widespread campaign of geoengineering to protect the Earth from a climate catastrophe. Highly engineered dust particles were carried up into the atmosphere several times each year where they reflected away a portion of the sun’s light, all in an effort to mitigate the planet’s uncontrollable warming.

Private companies, he was told by Trevor, had taken the lead in developing the technology and infrastructure, which gave this industry a growing footprint in the global market. His teachers assured him that geoengineering was needed to prevent economies and agriculture from collapsing, yet they also admitted that such drastic measures would have other un-foreseen consequences.

Ezra knew in advance his family’s distaste for this brand of narrative. The environment was a gift from God, he was taught, for humans to cultivate and rule. Men of the world had corrupted their hearts and strayed from the Truth, so they awaited the eternal judgment of

God at death for their misdeeds in life.

Yet God always remained in control, and the actions of men could never alter His desires. The family found it trite, of course, to personify well-known phenomena such as wind, rain, sun, or clouds as deific acts of animistic gods; yet deep down Ezra knew that they still clung to the fantasy of a heavenly Father God who commands the elements of Earth for His eternal purpose.

The murmur in the house cycled a pause that obligated Ezra to continue. “Because they have already started,” he said, looking first at Rose on his left before panning to Father at the head of the table. “They have been changing the atmosphere for years now, and the companies are profiting and still hiring. It seems that the men of the world wield tremendous power to do great deeds, both good and evil.” He added this last sentence as an afterthought to appease, but his transparency was met by inscrutable stares.

“You seem,” said Father with a bellow, “to have a lot of faith in the world these days,

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Ezra.” This was not a question, but Ezra knew it demanded an answer.

choose to de-part from this foolish quest of yours if you still want to live a good life.”

“I have learned a lot in my studies away,” said Ezra, representing the first statement spoken by anyone that actively acknowledged his absence. “I cannot ignore what I have learned.”

He knew his parents disapproved of his Rumspringa, but this direct challenge to his decision still surprised him. He suspected that the entire performance had been staged, and that his parents had intended since his arrival to use the power of their community to bend his will. As his mouth gaped open in the formation of a response, his surprise was further amplified at the sound of a familiar voice closer to his age.

“Two short months, and he thinks himself an expert.” Father and Mother exchanged knowing glances at the youthful rebellion they had come to expect from their progeny.

“Of course not,” said Ezra in defense. “I still have much more to learn.”

“What do you mean?” asked Father with increasing power in his voice. “You learned what you set out to discover, what more do you want now? Your professors will only distort your mind and lead you farther from the Truth.”

“Ezra,” added Mother as she sat straight again to look at her growing boy, “you cannot simultaneously embrace the ways of men and the ways of God. You must

“Ezra, are you still a believer?” Eli’s voice was unmistakable, though he sat along a crowded wall to the right of Ezra where he was obscured from view. It was uncommon for children or youth to speak in these large gatherings, out of respectful deference to their elders who knew what mattered most. Eli was becoming a man of his own standing in the community and anticipated his eventual baptism into the Order. He spoke with a convincing courage that made evident the virtuous contents of his heart. The hum that followed his utterance was a matted conglomeration

of astonishment, admiration, anxiety, and misgiving that was shattered abruptly by a stern affirmation.

“Yes, of course he is,” Mother was quick to defend. She sharpened her gaze in a panoramic display to make clear that the eternal fate of her son’s soul was not at stake. She rested her view upon Ezra until he met her eyes and knew the pain that would befall if he said otherwise.

“I just want to finish school,” said an exasperated Ezra, “that is all.”

“Fine, then,” said Father, “finish your school. But what will you do after?”

“That is for me to decide, Father,” said Ezra in a grasp for initiative met with an audible gasp in unison. Ezra knew that he now walked a fine line between defending himself and offending his elders. “I can make my own decisions as I am ready.” He was vigilant to neither assert nor deny his desire to join the Order, yet he could tell from the troubled looks of his relatives that they all shared a deep and sincere concern for his salvation.

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“You should not return to the world, Ezra.”

Father’s commanding inflection was the same that Ezra learned as an infant meant not to be trifled with. “You must listen to me. I know what is good for you.”

Father stood up upon pronouncement and retired to his study upstairs. Two of his three brothers followed behind, as the rest of the men took the cue and decided upon a walk outside. The women began the arduous process of cleaning, and the children organized a scavenger hunt among their ranks.

Ezra lingered at his place as he watched his relatives and friends dissipate without another word or glance in his direction.

He only moved when his cousin Mary, four years younger, politely requested for him to vacate the table so she could restore it to the original location. He meandered outside as the women rearranged the house. Neither the men on their hike nor the children in their games showed any acknowledgment of his presence. His body flashed in momentary warmth at the prospect of being ignored, but he receded

across the small hill behind the house to walk away from the crowds and upstream toward his familiar place of solitude.

The stream was colder now than when Ezra had left, but the water’s clarity had not yet surrendered to the opaque freeze of winter.

He crossed and found the comfortable clearing he knew so well. He sat on the grass with his back against a bristling pine tree and let the sound of the passing stream drown out the rumbles and shouts of revelry around him. He looked to the sky and tried to pray, but words from Father and Mother were all that came to mind.

As the yellowing hues scattered through the thicket of winding branches, Ezra felt a shrill and pointed loneliness that made the familiar homeland of his forebearers an unwelcome sight. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the sturdy green pine cone he had kept with him, the memento he took just three months earlier. He let it fall to roll between his hands, watching this seed of potential life dance across the lines of his palm, before clasping it in anger and pain. He closed

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his eyes in silence as the reddening of the sky signaled the end to this holiday.

He paused along the bank and examined a solitary minnow in frantic spurts of propulsion that carried it downstream toward its distant destination. He waded into the creek and felt his feet turn numb.

Casting one more gaze to heaven, and then another toward the house, he stretched out his hand over the flowing waters and let the pine cone drop with a muted splash.

Without a glance or concern to see where it landed, he left his place of childhood solace to prepare for the journey ahead.

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professor BUZZKILL

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ARE THERE BODIES BURIED IN THE GEORGE WESTINGHOUSE BRIDGE

?

It’s a story that drives tour guides and engineering historians crazy: a worker falls into a pool of wet concrete that’s being poured into a column as part of a major construction project. Before he can be saved, his body slips beneath the surface and he drowns in the thick soup of the concrete.

Pouring concrete is a slow and tedious job, and once “the pour” is started, it can’t be stopped without ruining the whole block, otherwise that section would have to be redone. So, rather than digging the dead workman out of the concrete pool, construction supervisors and bosses let the body sink further into the concrete, and the poor workman gets entombed forever in the structure he was helping to build.

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T

his tale is told of nearly every major concrete structure built in the modern age, and Westinghouse Bridge in East Pittsburgh is no exception.

Depending on who’s telling the tale, there are one to four workers entombed in the concrete bridge supports that hold up that famous Pittsburgh span.

Were the bosses that cold? Was the march of progress so heartless? Thankfully, no.

Built from 1929 to 1932, the George Westinghouse Bridge was an engineering marvel in its day. Soaring 240 feet above Turtle Creek Valley, its five spans of reinforced concrete––including a 460foot central span–– reached a total length of 1,598 feet. When it opened, it was the longest concrete arched bridge in the country. It remains one of the longest to this day, nearly 85 years later.

Many workers died during the building of highways, bridges, dams, and other major construction projects during this period, but there is absolutely no evidence at all that any workers were ever entombed in poured

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The structural stability of the concrete would have been compromised by having human remains encased in it. A massive structure like the Westinghouse Bridge would have crumbled and collapsed if there had been a body in any part of the poured concrete, after that concrete hardened.

The hundreds of thousands of pounds of traffic that cross Westinghouse Bridge daily would cause the compromised concrete to crumble, resulting in a cascade of collapse.

concrete. Not in the Brooklyn Bridge, not in Hoover Dam, and not in our beloved George Westinghouse Bridge.

“But Professor,” you might ask, “wouldn’t the bosses and construction companies naturally suppress the news of such a tragic death in order the keep the building process going?” Maybe.

That sort of craven capitalism is a moot point when we consider the structural integrity of concrete.

The reason we know this type of death did not happen is solved not by morality, but by science. Any object falling into wet concrete would create air pockets, and air pockets of any size would create weaknesses in the integrity of the compound.

As previously noted, many workers perished completing massive construction projects. The industrial death toll at Hoover Dam hovers around 100, depending on which source you consult. Somewhere between 20 and 30 workmen died while building the Brooklyn Bridge, including those who drowned or developed decompression sickness (better known as Caisson disease or the bends). By comparison, conditions at Westinghouse Bridge were extraordinarily safe. There was one death during its construction, when a worker slipped and fell in December, 1931, but he landed on the cold, hard ground, not in wet concrete.

So, despite the stories you may have heard at family gatherings, your old Uncle Stas isn’t entombed in the Westinghouse Bridge. Your Aunt Stella poisoned him, and he’s buried in the back yard.

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a column from pittsburgh’s biggest miami dolphins fan. (yes, that’s a thing.)

By Bob Stallsmith

E

rie, Pennsylvania is a fault line of profession football fandom. The city falls in a broadcast market for the Buffalo Bills but geographically is closer to the Cleveland Browns.

Most importantly, it’s also Western Pennsylvania and therefore Steelers Country. Growing up in the region, it was common to see loyal fans of any of these three teams, fair-weather supporters, and the occasional oddball sporting the colors of some far-flung franchise.

Finding myself in the oddball category, my team has been the Miami Football Dolphins for as long as I can remember.

Most people just ask, “Why?” Commonly I receive a sarcastic, “I’m sorry,” or, “I feel so bad for you.” The nicest response I’ve received is, “Oh, you must be so loyal,” which I am. A former coworker asked me, “…but you still like the Steelers, right?” in a tone usually reserved for people from Cleveland.

Regarding the last question, yes, I love Pittsburgh, and I love sports, both too much not to at least like the Steelers.

They’re just not my team. I spend most Sundays wearing the Aqua and Orange.

Though I do own a Steelers’ jersey and a Terrible Towel, I think these things just find their way into people’s closets when they live in this city.

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To anyone whose response was to say, “sorry,”: Don’t be. I’m not. I spend all of baseball season rooting for the Buccos.

I spend all of hockey season cheering for the Pens. I spend all of basketball season…not really watching basketball.

It’s my personal opinion that football is the most enjoyable sport to talk about relative to how much fun it is to actually watch. The length of the off season, the time between games, the time between quarters, and the time between plays grants so much opportunity for predicting, analyzing, and straight up bs-ing. That time is also a reason why I think I have put up with being a fan of an out of market team.

While it’s not the reason I became a fan, it is fun to have that difference. I haven’t spent my time consuming the same media about the same sports club all season, which is refreshing.

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When the Dolphins win, I’m happy. When the Steelers win, all of my friends are happy, and that doesn’t suck too much, either.

The Dolphins have been mediocre my entire life. Because of this, I am more emotionally invested in the Miami-Pittsburgh games than in any others I watch. In recent years I’ve made it a point to host as many Steelers fans as I can possibly fit in my football viewing area for their match-ups. When the Dolphins win, I’m happy. When the Steelers win, all of my friends are happy, and that doesn’t suck too much, either.

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Fortunately, they have been entertaining games from what I can recall (excluding the Monday Night Football Monsoon, featuring 375 yards of offense, and a late Jeff Reed field goal for a Pittsburgh win). It took a couple of hours of the “friendship happiness” for me to get over the blown fumble call in 2010 that kept the ball with Pittsburgh, and that trash cowboy, Jeff Reed, had another game winning field goal to beat the Dolphins.

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In 2013, I remember being surrounded by screaming black and gold fans, with the thought in my head, “that was a forward lateral, anyway,” as Antonio Brown was running up the sideline. In a few seconds everyone around me would be silenced by replay after replay revealing that he had stepped out of bounds. No need to worry about the forward pass. No miraculous kick return touchdown in the waning moments of the game. Just a Miami victory, 34 to 28. And a man called Boob (jokingly) attacking me with a wooden stake, but that’s a story for another day.

I guess it’s the shared experience from a slightly different angle that has kept me a Miami Dolphins fan since I was six years old to this day and beyond. I have tried being a Steelers fan; it has never felt right. I do honestly root for them against 30 of the NFL teams (unless it mathematically assists the Dolphins’ chances of making the playoffs). The two teams don’t play often enough, and, to be honest, the Phins haven’t been competitive enough for it to be a proper rivalry.

However, days like October 15th, 2016 get blocked off in my calendar as soon as the season schedule is set.

As to the question of why I became a Miami Football Dolphins fan: I really like dolphins.

Bob Stallsmith is a sports writer, comic book enthusiast, and a semi-professional pinball player with Polish Hill Full Tilt Pinball.

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