Butler

Santa Rosa.CA

Newport Beach, California

Allentown, PA

Butler PA

Hi Charles. Wow... did you take me back into time. Here\'s my profile: 1.I was born in Butler, Pa in 1938. My brother born in 1948. 2.I attended Butler and Lyndora Elementary Schools graduating from Butler High School (in town)in June 1956. 3.Grew up working at my dad\'s diner (Dan\'s Diner) at top of New Castle Street hill. Later dad built the Dairy Queen in front of what was then the entrance to the Butler Fair Grounds. Now its the entrance to Butler Senior High. Dad eventually sold the Dairy Queen to Jim Edwards who still owns it. Dad tore the Diner down in 1976 and built Mr. Joe\'s Restaurant in its place. 4.I went into the marines after high school, boot camp at Parris Island then to Great Lakes Navy base and eventually to 29 Palms in California. Lived in the west coast until mom was near death and I returned back home to good-ole-Butler. ( about 1989 ). 5.My dad is 1st generation Syrian/American and my mom 1st generation Polish/American. In the 40\'and 50\'s we helped in the annual set-ups of the SYRIAN PICNICS in Butler and Highfield areas of Lyndora.Back then it was the only way for Butlerites to get beer and whiskey ON SUNDAY...HA...HA! They loved the Syrian bread,the kibbee and grape leaves. OH, and some gambled in the \"hide-away\" areas of the picnic location. Of course, our priest would be there to collect donations...after all IT WAS SUNDAY. 6. I\'m proud to tell you about my WW2 Survivor Of Bataan Death March uncle: Abie Abraham. God Bless him he passed away last year at the age of 98. He had over 36,000 volunteer hours at the Butler VA Hospital. His widow still lives on their farm on Rte 68, Renfrew. We keep in touch. 7. I have one brother GEORGE he now lives in Bettendorf, Iowa and my 3 daughters are in Oregon. After mom and dad died I moved to Portersville,Pa for whatever remaining days the Lord gives me. SORRY, I TALKED SO MUCH...YOUR SITE HERE JUST BLEW ME AWAY. P.S. I like to write poems too. I will most likely order your book of Butler poems. I HOPE TO HEAR FROM YOU CHARLES, BEST REGARDS, DAN.

Portersville, Pa

Hi Charles:

Did you get my lengthy blog from last nite? I\'m the guy who worked at my dad\'s diner (Dan\'s Diner) and Dairy Queen at top of New Castle Street hill in late 40s\',50s\'.. Graduated from Butler Hi in 1956.

This website is a pile of poo. Charles leaves 'wonderful' posts online from 'wonderful' people from this 'wonderful' town who call others "douchebag", "idiot","jerk", etc. He eliminates posts because people simply don't like them. What happened to freedom, Chuck?

Ingram PA

I just finished reading your BUTLER PENNSYLVANIA POEMS. I emjoyed the collection a great deal. In many ways it reminded me of SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY and WINESBURG, Ohio. Much success with your writing.

york, Pa

Hi there. Myself and my fiance' are relocating to butler in 4 weeks he has gotten a job at the Printing company, and i am trying to find some rental properties through a private landlord and not a rental company. We are looking for a house, a mobile home, or an apartment. I would just like to say that Butler is a beautiful little place and we can not wait to be part of the community. thank you for any and all help that is provided.

United States

Thank you for writing about Butler, Pa. I to was born in Butler County hospital. My grandmother spent her entire career as a RN there in the maternity ward. I plan on going home this autumn to visit so many places I have been away from since my young teen years. Thank you again!

Pittsburgh, PA

Dear Charles: Dan Morrow here, BHS class of 1967. I have only now discovered your blog and sites. I adore what you are doing.

Dear Charles,

Although i have no relation whatsoever with the US or Germany or Europe, except my connection with St.Therese, which brought me to your blogs... :)

As i read your posts from 2005 onwards, i felt a part of that life... like i knew Tom, like i was there in the cold afternoon when he breathed his last and at the funeral when the priest recited Our Father whiled the snow lashed at the gathering...

....to the day of your latest post which said you dreamt of Merton...

It was a journey... it may not make a diference to my life as i live it... but it did allow me to live another life for the time i was into it, reading...

it took me away from my preoccupations and distractions... into another world... i did not feel like a voyeur even for a moment... i felt part of it...

thanks for your faithfulness to posting yr thoughts for so many years... its the first thing i noticed and wondered if i would ever have such perseverence...

How did i find your blog? well, you sent us a link on the yahoogroups mail...

Thank you for the visit home. In the 1950s, on the West End, we sledded from the top of the alley on 5th Avenue, across from the elementary school, beside the yellow brick Church of the Nazerene, down two blocks to where the cinders stopped us right across from Baron's house, and the apartment where Sammy Loverick lived. Boys had hats with ear-lugs and their black rubber boots had buckles and girls had red overshoes with zippers that froze and fur trim at the top that collected hard clumps of snow that eventually slid down the inside to melt on our ankles, leaving remnants of wet cinders to scratch the clammy skin. Our woolen mittens got wet and then strangely heavy almost right away. But the smell of wet wool, coal smoke from every chimmney,sharp exhaust fumes from trucks crawling up New Castle Street hill and the fleeting whiff of somebody's supper, kept us warm for long enough to gather the strength and resolve from the yellow pool of streetlight and the red lantern coloring the cinder embedded snow. Then, exhilerated once again grab the stiffened clothesline rope and haul that steel and wooden sled back up to the top again for one more fantastical flight before the frozen snot and aching toes sent us limping back home to hover over the floor register where our mittens thawed and dripped and where, in a few months hence, we would keep the cardboard box of pink and blue dyed chicks, the warm air lifting their baby chicken smell to our curious runny noses. Thanks again.

Chicora PA

Found this page by googling my 16 year old son's name who was named after his great uncle - the same person that Anonymous refers to as having drove over the Wayne Street Viaduct - just want to clarify that it was an accident and not intentional. Nonetheless glad to find this interesting info about days gone by in Butler PA - will share the link on FB.

Meadville, PA, Crawford County

I came across your blog site while looking for the 134th PA reunion histories. I found out just a couple of years ago that my grt. grandfather and his 18 year old brother from Lawrence Conty stood shoulder to shoulder at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville battles. I went to those battlefields just last October and when I got home, I too felt emotionally touched by their valor and duty to save the Union and I wrote a poem about the charge on Mayres heights.

San Antonio, Texas

Dear Charles: Your Troutman house is most curious to me. My great, great, grandfather was Etienne Napoleon Bonaparte Trautman, born in Hellering, Aslace, February 24, 1824. He entered the United States around 1857, and enlisted in the Union Army, 137th Volunteer Infantry, Company G, September 1862, and mustered out in June of 1863. I was wondering about any potential Trautman family in Butler, Pennsylvania, as I know he settled in Colebrook, Ashtabula, Ohio in his later years. Please let me know if you have any connection to this past? I enjoyed your thoughts and poetry. Dean