Dan Dolack
I'd been to Europe, Africa, South America, the Caribbean, Canada, and all the Pacific Coast states. However, I'd never been any further west in my own home state than the Pennsylvania Dutch country around Lebanon. I'd never even seen the capitol in Harrisburg. I should see all of my state before I die, I reasoned, and now is the time to do it!
Dan Dolack, a former fighter pilot, journalist, special agent, and industrial editor had lived in or visited Europe, Africa, South America, 33 states and provinces in North America, and the Caribbean, but had never seen most of Pennsylvania, his home state.
He bought a Harley-Davidson touring bike and sidecar and set out to do just that. Along the way he visited haunted Fort Mifflin, toured the State Capitol, met Pennsylvania Lieutenant Governor Catherine Knoll, made his first parachute jump, and visited a haunted hotel and the Horseshoe Curve.
Dan toured the Flight 93 crash site, inspected the giant cross at Jumonville, and visited the Golden Triangle, Lake Erie, the Kinzua Viaduct – the bridge to nowhere - and the Indian lookout at Wyalusing. Before returning home, he had passed through all the border counties of the state, met a variety of friendly and interesting strangers, and visited places he had never seen.
The grim casemates, a network of dark passageways and chambers honeycombing the fort's walls are haunted, Eric explained. "They have been described by paranormal investigators as "being full of ghosts."
... the tracks across the Alleghenies became an important factor in the growing commerce of the nation and in national defense. Not well known is the fact that in 1942 Nazi saboteurs planned to blow up the Horseshoe Curve to interfere with the movement of troops and supplies. However, agents of the Federal Bureau of Investigation caught them before they could put their plan into effect.
At a signal by J.R., we all let go and went into freefall. There was no gut-wrenching sensation of falling as I had anticipated. It was quiet, and what I experienced was more of a birdlike, floating feeling. We dropped about 8,000 feet. The view was spectacular as we headed for earth. Chambersburg was below us, centered among greening farmlands, with forested mountains about our periphery.
Some of the valleys in the Laurel Highlands are wide, with neat little farms lining the valley floors. Other valleys are small and narrow with few farms, their villages almost merging into the very sides of the mountains that surround them. It is one of the most scenic places I visited, and it made me think "Switzerland."
However, in my opinion, the most impressive feature of the Pennsylvania Military Museum is the arc of stone memorials dominating a small, semicircular hillside next to the museum. The markers commemorate various Pennsylvania military units and individuals, and the battles in which they fought. The memorial arc is a fitting tribute to the thousands of Pennsylvanians who have made the supreme sacrifice for our nation.
Karen Yoder, owner of the hotel for 13 years, is a pleasant, likeable person from Bedford County. When I asked about ghosts, Karen replied, "I'm told I have 13 different 'entities' upstairs. Certain people, I call them 'ghost busters,' visit the hotel to find them. They bring in special equipment and see orbs - ghosts - all over the building.'
Donna Glessner, a volunteer at this Flight 93 Temporary Memorial, explained to me that many people came to the remote crash site with questions, but there was no one to talk to, and they would go away with their questions unanswered and their concerns unresolved. Today, local residents serve daily two-hour shifts at the memorial as National Park Service Volunteer Ambassadors.
I met Lora Cornell, administrative assistant at the United Methodist Church facility at Jumonvillie. She was a wealth of information, which she willingly shared with me, and she provided me with keys that gave me access to the site of the giant cross that towered above us. The Cross of Christ, erected in 1950, is located atop heavily forested Dunbar's Knob at an elevation of 2,480 feet. Made of steel plate almost half an inch thick, it is 60 feet high, and the arms spread 33 feet. It weighs 47,000 pounds, and its base is embedded in 183 tons of reinforced concrete.
As I returned up the twisting, narrow road above Deep Valley, my fourth angel was put to the test. A big red truck came speeding down the hill, and, at a tight curve it couldn't handle, crossed the centerline, then headed for me. There wasn't much of a shoulder, but there was a tiny one, and that's where I went. Fortunately, the truck missed me. I think my angels said in concert, "We can't keep this up! He's on his own." However, that was last time that I would need them on this trip.
Another thing I noticed about Pennsylvania was the pride the citizens took in their country. Everywhere I went there were American flags - on houses, along streets, on businesses, on tall flagpoles .... Small flags decorated lawns and cemeteries everywhere. Pennsylvanians are proud of being Americans!
The Kinzua Bridge originally spanned the deep Kinzua Gorge, leading to a small mountain on the other side. It was an engineering masterpiece, the highest railroad bridge in the world, when it was completed in 1882. In 2003 a tornado destroyed the bridge, and now it ends at the middle of the gorge, broken rails still jutting into the air, the wreckage lying far below where it fell.
The air was crystal clear. Distant filmy cirrus clouds moved slowly across a bright, blue sky, and a gentle breeze wafted through the nearby trees. There were no people at the spot, no animals. There were no communities or farms visible, only rolling mountains and the forest that surrounded me. There was no sound of distant car engines. There were no aircraft in the sky, no birds, not even the sound of birds or cattle. Only silence. I experienced the most quiet, peaceful feeling I have ever felt. Absolute peace. Absolute quiet. A restful, rejuvenating feeling unlike any I have ever experienced. I'm not an especially religious man, but I felt very close to God and nature.
"It's a very small and remote area. Everyone hunts and fishes. That's what we do here. I'll probably live here the rest of my life - unless it gets any bigger. If it does, I'll move to Alaska. I don't like living in an overpopulated area."
Heading for Matamoras, the road was wide, clear, but wet. Not only was I passed by most vehicular traffic, but also by three houses.
