Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Plunges into Pennsylvania

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Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Plunges into Pennsylvania Page 22

by Bathroom Readers' Institute


  Sealing the Deal

  There was little argument this time. Benjamin Franklin delivered the following statement: “Thus I consent, sir, to this Constitution, because I expect no better, and because I am not sure that it is not the best.” The other delegates agreed, and the document was complete.

  The next step was to have nine of the thirteen states ratify the Constitution. That turned out to be a two-year process that involved promising an entire additional document—the Bill of Rights, which was written later in New York. But finally, on June 21, 1788, New Hampshire became the ninth state to ratify the U.S. Constitution, making the document the law of the land. (Rhode Island, incidentally, finally accepted the Consti-tution in 1790, the last of the original thirteen to do so.)

  To read about other great documents written in Philadelphia,

  turn to pages 38 and 182.

  Did You Know?

  Known in her day as the “Diva of Din,” Florence Foster Jenkins turned bad singing into a career. Born in Wilkes-Barre in 1868, she started giving concerts in 1912. And even though she spent years taking voice lessons, nothing seemed to improve her terrible singing. Yet her concerts were hits. Why? She wore extravagant costumes (one of her most famous included wings and a crown) and—thanks to her own supreme self-confidence—created a “so bad it’s good” experience for audiences. Her shows continued into the 1930s, and she played to increasingly packed rooms. And despite her critics, Jenkins compared herself to the likes of Frieda Hempel, Luisa Tetrazzini, and other opera divas of the era.

  Jenkins’s fame peaked in 1944 with a concert at Carne gie Hall. The show sold out, and the box office turned away 2,000 people. She died a month later at the age of 76.

  The Stall of Fame

  We’re always amazed by the creative ways people use bathrooms, toilets, toilet paper, etc. So we created Uncle John’s “Stall of Fame” to honor them. Here are two Pennsylvanians who made their mark . . . with toilets.

  Thomas Suica of Monaca

  Notable Achievements: Beating the system and making unique art

  True Story: In November 2000, the Sky Bank announced it was building a branch on a vacant lot next to Suica’s home in the western Pennsylvania town of Monaca. Suica, a plumber, didn’t like the idea of a bank moving in next door—so he fought back by installing 10 “decorative” toilets on the roof of his garage. Every month or so, he rearranged them to create scenes commemorating the changing seasons. (His Christmas display: Santa’s sleigh being pulled by 10 toilet reindeer.)

  When the city fined Suica $135 and cited him for creating “unsanitary and unsafe conditions” on his roof, he fought back in court—and won. Judge Thomas Mannix threw out the citation, finding that the town “had not proved the toilets, which Suica bought new, were unsanitary.” Three years later, the city council tried again, arguing that Suica’s toilet display was a health hazard because the bowls would collect water that could breed mosquitoes that might bring the West Nile virus. The council withdrew its complaint when it found that Suica had sealed the bowls shut to prevent them from collecting water.

  Update: Sky Bank eventually abandoned its plans to build a bank next to Suica’s house.

  Joseph Taviani of Bath

  Notable Achievement: Decorating his rental properties in a town-appropriate manner

  True Story: In July 2001, Taviani put three toilets on the front lawns of three rental properties he owns in Bath: two were plain white, and the third was pink and planted with pink tulips. His neighbors were outraged, but Taviani maintained that his displays were “art.” The two white toilets were eventually stolen, and the pink one came under fire when locals complained, but the town council couldn’t find any evidence that the toilets violated the town’s building codes. Last we heard, the pink toilet was still there.

  And why toilets in the first place? Taviani explained, “When you think of Bath, you think of a bathroom. Tubs were too big.”

  Did You Know?

  During the mid-1700s—as the population of Pennsylvania grew and farmland was harder to come by—people started packing up their possessions and heading south along a path that became known as the Great Wagon Road. The road stretched from Pennsylvania through Maryland and Virginia and into North Carolina, which was mostly unpopulated at the time. The colonists’ preferred mode of transport? The Conestoga wagon, which had been developed by Penn sylvanians living in the Conestoga Valley (in modern Lancaster county) in the early 18th century.

  Keystoners on the Big Screen

  Grace Kelly, Will Smith, and Jack Palance all have at least one thing in common: they’re Pennsylvania natives who have a movie title in this crossword puzzle. (Answers on page 309.)

  Across

  1 Margarita need

  5 Musical staff insignia

  9 Civil rights protest

  14 Director Kazan

  15 Powerful engine

  16 At full gallop

  17 James ___ Jones

  18 Seed cover

  19 Some fountain drinks

  20 1954 Grace Kelly movie

  23 Ben & Jerry’s “___ Gooey Cake”

  (frozen yogurt)

  24 “Bad ___ to them!” (luck)

  25 Laps up noisily

  28 “Should ___ acquaintance . . .”

  30 Vital fluid

  33 Shiva worshipper

  34 Movie lioness

  35 Verdi slave girl

  36 1996 Will Smith movie

  39 Social equal

  40 Not the original color

  41 ___ de menthe

  42 Armenia, once

  43 Letter opener

  44 Geneva’s nation

  45 Perky songbird

  47 Hemingway nickname

  48 1999 Jack Palance movie

  54 “Could you give me ___?”

  55 Not counterfeit

  56 Ancient Peruvian

  57 Beat back

  58 Memo starter

  59 Oscar winner, e.g.

  60 Actress Parker

  61 Real estate agent’s sign

  62 Poop out

  Down

  1 Parrot morsel

  2 Jai ___

  3 Italian bread?

  4 Formidable task

  5 Rubs the wrong way

  6 Artist Neiman

  7 Islamic leader

  8 What soap may leave

  9 Like some vows and some cows

  10 Modern music holders

  11 Is partial

  12 Cake decorator

  13 Nintendo’s Super ___

  21 Clean, as a spill

  22 Bruin athlete

  25 Steamers and icebreakers

  26 Come-ons

  27 Hidden

  28 Tree of the birch family

  29 “Pre-owned”

  31 Hitchhiker’s Guide writer Douglas

  32 One whose name is on the check

  34 One-named Irish singer

  35 Daring circus performer

  37 Perfect spots

  38 Some bra features

  43 Lethal

  44 Cruised the sea

  46 She’s Dorothy in Jerry Maguire

  47 Oyster’s prize

  48 Telly’s character on Kojak

  49 Battle Cry author Leon

  50 Get-hitched-quick spot

  51 Voting no

  52 It’s south of Va.

  53 Truth alternative

  54 Jean of Dada

  The Rolling Rock Story

  Rolling Rock beer—in its green bottle with a painted-on label—remains the best-known product to come out of the Allegheny mountain town of Latrobe.

  On a Roll

  In the 1970s, Rolling Rock beer was a Northeast institution. But the brewery’s founders were an unlikely bunch—an order of Benedictine monks.

  The monks opened the Latrobe Brewing Company in 1893, and various owners brewed beer there until 1920, when Prohibition made the manufacture and sale of alcohol illegal in the United States. That seemed to be the end o
f the brewery, but in 1933, with Prohibition on the verge of repeal, four brothers—Frank, Anthony, Ralph, and Robert Tito—bought the old plant and started making beer again. They had some missteps, but in 1939, they hit on the brew that would make them millionaires: a pale lager they called Rolling Rock after the smooth pebbles they’d seen in nearby streams.

  The Titos were beer makers, though, not marketers, and even though their beer developed a loyal fan base in Pennsylvania, they did little to expand their brand. In fact, their salesmen generally sold only to bars and restaurants that were within a day’s drive or less from home. But despite the lack of marketing, word of Rolling Rock spread throughout Penn-sylvania and then the northeastern United States. By the early 1970s, the Latrobe Brewing Company was putting out more than 700,000 barrels of beer per year.

  On the Move

  But as more beer brewers came on the market, Rolling Rock’s lack of a marketing strategy proved to be a problem. In the early 1980s, Latrobe’s output dropped by almost half, and the Titos decided to sell. Over the next two decades, various companies (with marketing departments) bought and sold Rolling Rock and helped expand the brand to larger markets. The brewery changed hands several times, but production remained in Latrobe . . . until 2006, when Anheuser-Busch acquired the company and decided to move Rolling Rock production to New Jersey.

  It was a blow to locals, who adamantly believed the beer would never be the same. According to the town’s former mayor, Jim Gebicki, “It’s hard to believe there won’t be Rolling Rock in Latrobe. It’s a real sadness . . . They can take it to New Jersey, but it will never be Rolling Rock.”

  A group of concerned citizens used Internet campaigns and boycotts to try to keep Rolling Rock in Pennsylvania, but they failed. The last batch of Rolling Rock rolled out of Latrobe in July 2006. Many in the town feared this would mean the economic downfall of their community, but the Latrobe Brewing Company soon reopened—in 2007, it started brewing the Boston Beer Company’s Signature brand, Samuel Adams.

  Why 33?

  Aside from its green glass bottle and painted-on label (instead of a pasted-on paper label), one of Rolling Rock’s most distinctive markings is the number “33” printed on every bottle. Over the years, people have posed theories as to what the number means: some claim it’s the number of tanks at the brewery; others say it stands for 1933, the year Prohibition was repealed.

  But both are wrong. Here’s the real story: When Rolling Rock was being introduced, several people in the company argued over how long the slogan on the beer’s label should be. Eventually, the Tito brothers settled on a long one: “Rolling Rock from glass lined tanks in the Laurel Highlands. We tender this premium beer for your enjoyment as a tribute to your good taste. It comes from the mountain springs to you.” The adman who wrote the slogan wrote the number “33” next to the copy to indicate how many words it was.

  Next, the slogan was sent to the bottle maker, who thought “33” was part of the slogan and printed it on each glass bottle. Rather than scrap the bottles, the company decided to leave it. And over the years, even though the slogan changed slightly, the number 33 became a recognizable part of Rolling Rock’s brand.

  Did You Know?

  •Most Amish buggies travel between 5 and 8 mph.

  •Buggies are usually painted brown, black, gray, or white so as not to draw attention to their owners.

  •You can identify how conservative an Amish order is by its buggies; the more plain the buggy, the more conservative the order. Liberal orders have been known to “dress up their buggies” with windshields, wipers, blinking turn signals powered by batteries, and even cup holders.

  On the Road (Again)

  Three more must-see Pennsylvania roadside attractions.

  Ned’s Lucky Toe: Pittsburgh

  In 1900, the City of Pittsburgh erected a bronze statue of native son Stephen Foster (the 19th-century songwriter who penned classics like “Oh! Susanna” and “My Old Kentucky Home”) in the northeastern neighborhood of Highland Park. The statue showed Foster—in a bow tie and long coat, holding his songbook—seated, with a slave named Ned at his feet playing the banjo. But during the 1930s, people vandalized the statue, breaking off pieces of bronze to sell for scrap, and eventually, the city’s mayor had Foster and Ned moved to Schenley Plaza. The park was situated along busy Forbes Avenue, which discouraged vandalism.

  Over the years, the statue came under fire from civil-rights advocates, who said that the depiction of a slave was racially offensive. But the statue remained, and superstitious visitors started rubbing Ned’s bare right big toe for good luck. Why the toe? Bare feet are rare for statues, making Ned unusual. And because one superstition says that good luck sinks (like gold), the toe—being the statue’s lowest point—would be where all the luck was.

  The Body of Saint John Neumann: Philadelphia

  Bishop John Neumann of Philadelphia’s Saint Peter’s Catholic Church died in 1860 (Pope Paul VI made him a saint in 1977). At Neumann’s request, the church enshrined him in a crypt in the basement. Today, his body is still there . . . behind glass beneath the basement’s altar. And if he looks especially good for a man who’s been dead for more than 140 years, it’s because his face is actually a plaster mask, and his body is covered in ceremonial robes.

  And If You’re Really Hungry . . .

  Just off Highway 80 in Clearfield is Denny’s Beer Barrel Pub, home to the world’s largest hamburger: a 100-plus-pound gastrointestinal glut called the “Main Event Burger.” Denny Liegey opened the restaurant in 1977 and started out with smaller burgers: one-half and one-pounders. But in 1990, wondering how big a burger his customers could finish, he got the idea of offering a burger challenge. So he made two-pound burgers, then three-pounders, and so on, all the while offering customers various prizes if they finished their burgers in an hour or less. (Most people couldn’t.) It’s those challenges and the title of “world’s largest” that keep customers coming. Oh, and in case you’re wondering; the 100-pounder doesn’t come cheap—one burger with all the fixings will set you back about $380.

  For more roadside attractions,

  turn to page 12.

  Did You Know?

  Pennsylvania’s Susquehanna River provides half of the fresh water found in the Chesapeake Bay—the largest estuary in the United States—even though the bay doesn’t touch Pennsylvania at all.

  Down in the Valley

  Most people know about George Washington’s Revolutionary War triumph at Valley Forge. But what makes the story even more remarkable is how many of Washington’s men didn’t survive that winter—and why.

  How Bad Was It?

  In December 1777, General Washington and the Continental Army were in full retreat from a British force that was bigger, better armed, and better fed. With the Americans driven out of New York and unable to protect the nation’s new capital of Philadelphia, the British took over the city. Washington’s troops were forced to flee to Valley Forge, a village on the Schuylkill River about 20 miles northwest of Philadelphia. Washington’s force was about 12,000 strong but was facing more than 30,000 British. The Americans were so short of supplies that thousands of them didn’t even have shoes.

  The exhausted rebels were stuck. Hemmed in by the superior British forces, they were short on food, there was no shelter available, and within days of their arrival, six inches of snow had fallen. According to the French Marquis de Lafayette, “The unfortunate soldiers were in want of everything; they had neither coats nor hats, nor shirts, nor shoes. Their feet and their legs froze until they were black, and it was often necessary to amputate them.”

  Nature 1, Americans 0

  The British expected that the coming winter would bring defeat to the threadbare American army, but Washington thought differently. He made shelter his first priority. He divided his men into squads of 12 and ordered each group to build itself a small log hut. As an extra incentive, the general promised $12 to the group that built a shelter in the “quicke
st, most workmanlike manner.” The soldiers lacked the proper tools and had to scrounge for building supplies, but by February, they had created a small town of huts against the freezing landscape.

  Survival was still dicey, though. Washington had written to the U.S. government warning that if no supplies came, his hungry army would have to disband to keep from starving. But the new United States was disorganized and lacked experience and money. Plus, with the nation’s army outnumbered, the government couldn’t get its supply wagons past the British.

  They got some help when Chief Shenandoah and the nearby Oneida Indians brought the troops 600 bushels of corn. He also sent an Oneida woman to teach the soldiers how to prepare the vegetable. But Washington’s troops subsisted mainly on water and “firecake”—a mixture of flour, water, and salt (if a soldier was lucky enough to have salt) that was baked on hot rocks or in the fire. The soldiers tried to hunt and forage, but winter had left the area nearly barren.

  Casualties at Camp

  Still, the lack of food, the ever-present British threat, and the cold weren’t the worst killers at Valley Forge—sickness was. Spring brought warmer weather and more food, but thanks to the crowded quarters and 18th-century sanitation (there was none), diseases like the flu, typhus, and dysentery spread through the camp.

 

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