Fall In Salem

Frank V. Tursi

I love Frank Tursi. Frank no longer makes Salem his home and we are the worst for it. My experience with reporters has been a roller coaster ride. Up and down, around a tight bend, up and down, up and down. Know what I mean? Ever had your name in the public eye? Who knows what they will say or print? For most of my life I have attempted to remain out of the lime light, for that very reason. In most cases, the best comment is no comment and the best reporter is NO reporter (started to say dead but had a second thought about that, home land security and all). Not with Frank, he made me look better in print than I actually was. Frank wrote so many articles about one of my adventures that the New York Times picked up on it. How neat is that? Frank called one day said that we needed to meet; he had a present for me. When he showed up cameras were present as he handed me something heavy wrapped in a rag. Pulling back the soiled cloth I was taken back by the dull luster and a dent. Tears came to my eyes as I realized what it was. It had been lost or stolen and was now found. Frank said that the person who took it gave it to him stating “This should be returned to where it belongs.” That was over 20 years ago. Another gift was delivered because of Frank’s articles. Unfortunately, it was practically destroyed by idiots with a handgun and had to be restored at a cost of $2,500.00. These both remain in there place of honor to this day. You can see them walking through Salem! I walk by them almost every day. What were these gifts? I love suspense, you figure it out. Frank wrote about both, as I recall.

From the rear cover flap of Frank's book Winston-Salem - A History I consider a definitive work, printed in 1994:

As a reporter and editor for the Winston-Salem Journal for 15 years, Frank Tursi has been in close contact with the people and events that make local history. Among his numerous articles on Winston-Salem was a series that saved the Leinbach House in Old Salem from destruction and won an award from the North Carolina Society of Historians. A graduate of East Carolina University, Tursi has also written for such Publications as USA Today and Civil War Times Illustrated.

Purchase Books by Frank Tursi:

Fall In Salem

Here’s Spit in Your Eye

Dick (R.J.) Reynolds, attempting to be successful in plug chewing tobacco, was searching for the best possible experience. Product research wasn’t as refined as it might be today. Dick was constantly, personally, testing the competitor’s products. On discovering exceptional product he simply purchased the company gaining the recipe. Buying company after company he wasn’t satisfied anything represented the perfect chew he was pursuing. He was perplexed.

It was more comfortable riding in open railroad cars in warm weather. Spitting in the breeze could lead to confrontation between spitter and spit upon. Such vulgarities lead to blows physically damaging persons and property. One could be bodily tossed from the moving rail car. Spittoons were provided in an attempt to forestall these escapades and protect the rolling stock. Quandary was, most men were accustomed to habitually spiting on the dirt streets, out windows, and off their horses or carriages. Little thought was given to potential consequences for those near them.

Dick was enjoying a monotonous ride, dozing, rocked by the swaying, to the clickety-clack, clickety-clack of the rails. Abruptly, he was smacked in the face with a soggy, sticky, brown wad. Startled awake, glancing to determine the culprit, molasses thickened sap ran down the side of his face. Dick’s instinctive, experienced nose informed him, even over the harsh odor of burning coal pumping from the engine, something was special about this wad. With flick of tongue a hint of a smile graced his face. Observing the embarrassed culprit bracing for mortal combat, Dick raised arms as he calmly walked toward the tense culprit. Patting the gentleman on the back, firmly shaking his hand, cordially invited him to sit by his side. Sliding a hankie from his pocket, cleaning up the untidiness, Dick inquires as to the brand the gentleman was enjoying and if he has more to share. A broad smile crosses both faces as new found friend breaks off a chew to share. Another purchase and this seemingly insurmountable problem solved.

Fall In Salem

Skippy's Hot Dogs - 624 West Fourth

It's difficult to choose your favorite downtown restaurant however, if I had a list Skippy's Hot Dogs would grace the top of that list. Hot Dogs, you say, have I lost my mind with all of the marvelous choices downtown. All that says is that you haven't been to Skippy's. If you had, you would clearly understand. A Skippy's Hot Dog begins where no other Dog has begun before as Mike freshly bakes soft pretzel rolls. I am not talking about any old pretzel roll, but a secrete family recipe from Pennsylvania. Then the roll is steamed for softness, graciously buttered and placed on the grill for toasting. Did I say it is buttered? Yum. Now comes the thick succulent Nathan's all-beef frank. No, it does not come out of boiling water onto the bun. No way, Mike carefully slices, butterflying the frank and places it on the grill. From there its your desire including as available toppings: yellow mustard, spicy mustard, ketchup, house-made chili, house-made slaw, sauerkraut, shredded cheddar, sweet relish, banana peppers, chopped onions, grilled onions, tomato, pickle. Let your imagination run wild!

Don't have an imagination? Pick from the stock choices:

All the Way Dog - Mustard, chili, slaw, chopped onions

Reuben Dog - Spicy mustard, kraut, Swiss Cheese

Chicago Dog - Mustard, onion, sweet relish, dill pickle, tomato, banana peppers, celery salt

Chili Cheese Dog - Doesn't need explaining.

Not cool? Fine, have a veggie Dog - NOT THE SAME!

I will be honest, I would never visit Skippy's and have anything other than one of Mike's fabulous Hot Dogs. However, I can understand that your desires of fine cuisine might not be as refined as mine. Mike does have other items on his menu, which I choose to ignore and place a link here only for the gastronomically disadvantaged.

Link to Menu

Skippy’s Story
(From Skipp’s Website)

Skippy's owner Mike Rothman became inspired to make soft pretzels after he moved to North Carolina in 1994.  While widely available and very popular in his home state of Pennsylvania, authentic pretzels could not be found in the Winston-Salem area.  Mike experimented with several recipes and took lots of tasting trips around Pennsylvania before finding just the right recipe.

 The recipe that was finally chosen was from a Pennsylvania family that has been making soft pretzels for several generations and Mike was very lucky that they chose to share their secrets with him.  Mike's pretzel guru was Glenn Smith, and he came to North Carolina in June of 1997 to train Mike in the art of pretzel making.  The Carolina Dutch Pretzel Company was born, and Mike left his computer career to follow a dream.

Mike sold the pretzels through vending at local events and festivals, as well as wholesaling them to several schools and businesses in the Mocksville and Winston-Salem area.  After a few years, Mike starting thinking about centralizing his operation into a retail outlet.  He had sold hot dogs in pretzel buns as part of his vending and they were a huge hit.  He decided to open a sandwich shop featuring his soft pretzel rolls.

Mike bought New York Bagels and Deli on Hanes Mall Boulevard in Winston-Salem in June 2001.  He operated the restaurant as a bagel shop for several months while learning the ropes and refining his concept.  The restaurant officially became Skippy's in April 2002, serving hot dogs and sandwiches on pretzel rolls.  The hot dogs and hand cut french fries were even more popular than Mike expected, and are what Skippy's is known for today.

Check out this article in the July 14, 2010 Winston-Salem Journal:

Pennsylvania man with a handful of dough and a dream became city's pretzel Pied Piper

Visit Skippy's Hot Dogs on FaceBook

Visit Skippy's Hot Dog's Website

Hugged By The Mayor

Before I ascend to my pulpit please allow me to make it very clear that I AM A REGISTERED REPUBLICAN! When you live and function in a city, especially if you intend to write about it, being hugged by the Mayor is a great advantage. I have been hugged by more than one mayor but two hugs are the most important. Do you feel like you know Rudy Giuliani? Since 9/11, I do. Maybe I could take on a New York blog (bigger potential audience) if Rudy hugged me. During that time it seemed like he was everywhere. I was impressed with him before he became Mayor, while Mayor and after the fact. We should declare him Mayor of America and permanent adviser to the President. Every mayor in America should take notes! I have an affection for Rudy because that is the name of someone dear to me.

Before I get started on this rant let me make it very clear, not only am I a registered Republican but that I love Martha. (Note to Martha: Please don't take this personally, I am simple trying to make an important point and have a little fun. I know how very easily you are offended. Just remember that I love you in spite of both of our imperfections. Please hug me next time you see me.) You do know the Martha I am talking about, don't you? I am or was acquainted with many mayors including those who have or are serving in Winston-Salem, Clemmons, Kernersville, oh yeah Walkertown. There are probably some others but these are all my brain can get around right now. Just how many mayors can you possible consider in one setting?

OK, I think I got a little off track. The point is that being hugged by a Mayor is a good thing. It gives you power, attention and maybe acceptance as a respected member of your community. God knows, after everyone discovers who is writing this blog, I may need all of the respect I can find. The mayors may not hug me then!

For most of our history you did not become mayor of this city unless you were blessed by the corporate powers as they smoked there cigars cigarettes in the proverbial back rooms of power. Then confusion came when the people managed to elect a mayor from their own neighborhoods. 

Mayor, Martha Wood

As mayor, Martha and I had the most involvement together from the time she was an Alderman (the old name) through her term as Mayor. Our relationship continues into her current position in life. (Note to Martha: You look marvelous in this official portrait.) I would not call us close for at our first confrontation fire was flying from her eyes. As I recall, I told her to sit down, get out of my face and stop calling me a liar. How is that for beginning a long term relationship? The problem was that Martha's perception of me was tainted by lack of experience. I was actually the exact polar opposite of her perception of me and I knew it. No matter how hard I tried I was not convincing her otherwise. Fascinatingly her perception changed over the years and I honestly am convinced, not only that she thinks I changed, but that she is convinced that she had a part in changing me.

Time allowed Martha to come to terms with my small contributions to this community and she was pleased with them. She couldn't not like me any longer. In my position in this community Martha could be a problem. Amazingly, like most politicians, Martha was an artist at assuming credit for the work of others. She was mayor therefore anything you achieved, no matter how little her involvement, on behalf of the community must be to her credit. Our position on Martha could be explained in a comment made to me by a well positioned political operative at that time we were seeking a replacement. "The problem with Martha is that she is too short, feminine, aggressive, hostile, assuming, wears a skirt and, oh yes, controversial. What we need is a male in a nice suit. We can work around him. She is a roadblock."

Man, did we screw up on that one. I refuse to even grace this page with a picture! Why? We were convinced he had to be a Republican. Martha was our first, and mabe our last, female mayor for a while. She will be the reason why. I am sure to her that is a horrendous thought. Martha tired to run this city like she influenced her neighborhood. We are not a neighborhood we are a conglomeration of many very different neighborhoods all with their own ideas of what the whole should be. An effective mayor must be able to not only please the neighborhoods but constantlty push what is best for the whole no matter how controversial the cause might be.

Mayor, Allen Joins

Given our next opportunity I must gloat that we got it right, beyond our wildest imaginations, in Allen Joins. I recall, with pleasure, when Allen was running for his first term saying to him "Allen you will be the next mayor of Winston-Salem because the Republicans will make you mayor. Perform well and you can remain mayor for as long as you care to remain in play." Proof, name one person who can successfully oppose him! Why is that? He is not only a suit, but he is much, much more. He is the whole package wrapped in a ribbon of professional bearing. I fondly refer to our Democrat mayor as the Republican's choice. The question is not, if he can continue, but how long he will be willing to continue. For one I hope it is a very long time. How long have I been involved with Allen? How long has he been here? Oh, about that hug. No Allen has never physically hugged me. There have been a great deal of firm handshakes. However, every time I see him on the street, in a parade, at a restaurant or in a meeting, its the way he looks my way and breathes my name that feels like a hug to me. Yes, being hugged by a mayor is a good thing. Having his or her cell phone number in your pocket doesn't hurt either. It's a new day in Salem.

Star Spangled Banner in Salem

Francis Scott Key

Did you know… that the Moravian Music Foundation in Salem is home to one of nine surviving copies of the first printing of the Star Spangled Banner? How do they know it is the first printing? The indicator is in the title, “The Star Spangled Banner – A Pariotic Song”. Patriotic was misspelled in the first printing and was corrected in later issues. The song was included in a 19th century book of piano exercises. Four verses were included with the music, as well as a part for flute. This goes to show that the Moravian Music Foundation is a repository for things not only of importance to Moravians, but also of importance to all Americans.

Pumpkin Art on Main Street

Pumpkin Art on Main Street

Jesus Would Be Ashamed Of You

Credit: Journal photo by Lauren Carrol

I loved this photo in today's, October 24, 2010, Winston-Salem Journal. This speaks volumes. I need to place this in proper perspective. I have connections to King and was there this past week, along with hundreds of others, attending a funeral honoring an acquaintance of my spouse. Being well aware of the conflict brewing about the Christian flag I was still a little shocked at all of the Christian flags flying, and signage on the subject, in the yards, and businesses, of King. Why do I address this in my blog about "Walking Through Salem"? It fits well with similar issues raised here such as opening the city council meetings and county commissioner meetings with sectarian prayers or a certain City Alderman who personally, without proper permission, placed a monument of the Ten Commandments on the lawn of City Hall to mention a few. This simply seemed a good lead in to the topic relevant to our own community.

It is important that you understand that I have marched under the Christian flag. In my younger years I would have attended this protest in King and waved my Christian flag right along with all of the others in attendance. Without hesitation I would describe the younger me as a Christian Religious Fanatic. I am acquainted with some of the leaders of this protest as well as some of their mentors. Over the years my position has drastically changed. I would like to think it is because I became wiser. I can honestly say that that wisdom began because of abuses piled on me from folk like those marching with their flags in King. Today I would like to take my stand beside of the fellow at the top of this page and state that "Jesus Would Be Ashamed of ALL of You".

Get the picture?

Be assured that I am well versed in Scripture and have been considered, in the past, somewhat of an authority on such matters. I can honestly say, based on my immersion in the study of Christ that what is written on this sign held up in King is true. Jesus, as I understand him, would be ashamed of all of you. That goes for the mess in New York opposing the building of a Mosque near ground zero, sectarian prayers in public meetings and posting of the Ten Commandment in public spaces. I have also spent a life time studying our founding fathers and speak with authority when I unashamedly state that not only would Jesus be ashamed of you but you can know that George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and hundreds of other patriots would be ashamed of you as well. What our country is about is all flags of every persuasion being able to fly side by side and no one being upset about it. If you can accept that, without question, then you can count yourself a true American and you just might also qualify as a true Christian.

Those emotional, and overly excited folk in King should ask themselves a simple question. Is it appropriate for flags, other than the one at the left, to fly side by side at a memorial honoring American Soldiers? If your answer is a resounding NO, then fly the flags they fought for, and under, and leave the remainder at home and in your places of worship where they belong. Wake up people, Jesus would be ashamed of ALL of you on both sides of this question and you should be ashamed of yourself.

As for me, I am proud to count myself an American free to express my opinions, fly my flags, while being very careful not to stomp all over the freedoms of those around me. I may express my opinions which may be opposite of yours. I will also fight to the death for your right to express yours and not to be assailed by those who might disagree with you. That is what being an American is all about. Wake up and get with the plan people! It's a new day in Salem.

Revised Sunday October 31, 2010 Note this article in the Winston-Salem Journal:

Biscuit at root of sign that said a whole lot.

Welcome to Old Salem

Excerpt from "Old Salem - The Official Guidebook" by Penelope Niven and Cornelia Wright (click on the link to purchase your copy). Visit the official website of Old Salem Museums and Gardens

"The history of the Moravians comes to life at Old Salem. A unique religious group, the Moravians made the town of Salem an oasis of beauty and order in the Carolina back-country. Today in the workshops, homes, and gardens of Old Salem, men and women carry on the daily tasks of living just as they were done in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries - crafting beautiful objects, running households and businesses, and  engaging in artistic and musical pursuits. This guide will help you make the most of your visit to Old Salem, one of the most authentic living-history museums in the United States."

Welcome to Old Salem

In Old Salem you can walk time worn pathways, explore historic buildings, and admire decorative arts, crafts, and toys. You can hear ancient liturgy and old hymns, partake of Moravian traditions, taste bread and cookies made from old receipts, and stroll in the hush of God's Acre. You can learn how Old Salem was conceived and created, how it grew and changed.

Perhaps your curiosity about the people of the past brings you here in hopes that history will shed light on the present and the future. Perhaps you seek to understand the spirit of the Moravians, or wonder about daily life in their idealistic society.

In this unique place, you will find compelling stories of the people who lived in the town of Salem and the outlying villages of the Wachovia Settlement. You will learn about the devout Moarvians whose personal stories are interwoven with the history of a religion as well as the history of a congregation town, of Piedmont North Carolina, and the United States. And history often begins with a traveler on an untraveled road ...

It's a new day in Salem.

God's Two Big Mistakes

Winston-Salem

Yes, without doubt, God made two mistakes in our community and we are paying for them every day. With my unlimited power as a blogger I intend to correct this dreadful miscarriage of propriety. We will simply ignore the fact that such events ever occurred. It is within my authority. This is MY blog.

What is that you say? God can't make a mistake. I beg to differ with your judgment. He not only does, He has, and I have the proof. You can’t argue with me because if you are looking at this computer screen it is very likely you have personally experienced this theocratic screw up. Have you tried entering information for an online purchase, entered your residence as Winston-Salem, and it refused to accept your entry? It responds that it does not recognize your city. Well, that’s it, you are paying for God's mistake, the dastardly DASH. What does that have to do with God? Everything, following the direction of God's lead, local authorities and local voters blessed us with this dastardly DASH. Still don’t accept that God can make mistakes? Apparently you haven't spent time in His Holy Book. God not only has made mistakes but he has regretted some of his actions. I can speak with all honesty when I say that God might should give serious thought to many of his actions recorded in His book and repent. In today's society, should he act the same, we would prosecute him for war crimes and much, much more. Don't look at me like I am a fool. When your bright red gold embossed (with your name) bible is tattered and falling apart from leather cover to the missing rear cover you will have the right to lecture me about God. How many times have you read yours? Meanwhile you will simply need to accept what I am telling you. The dastardly DASH is God's fault.

Here is how this travesty began: God directed the diligent, resourceful, pious, charitable, stoic, sometime insistent and irritating, Christian, Unitas Fratrum (Moravians to you) to construct a communal town in North Carolina, under theocratic authority, called Salem. The church owned everything, governed everything and everyone. Trees were felled in what would be Salem in 1766. The first women arrived, the first baby born and the sites for the tavern and graveyard staked in 1770. Since the beginning of the Moravian settlements in North Carolina, when they surveyed their track in Anson County, as the population grew Anson was divided into Rowan, then Surry, then Stokes. By 1849 it was time to divide again and the occupants of Salem would find themselves in their fifth county.

First Mistake: Salem being the largest settlement, it was only common sense for it to become the county seat of this new county and such was the state's intention. God, and the Moravians had other ideas. Supposedly public flogging was a common punishment in county seats. These pious Moravians did not care for whipping posts in their community. At least that is the public story. On court days county seats tended to attract a sorted lot of low life merrymaking visitors. It appears that the highly religious, controlling, Christians didn’t much care for such in their quiet religious community. Following much prayer, discussion and possibly the casting of lots (a common method of Moravian communication with God in the early years), or whatever other methods they may have used the authorities were directed by God (they did nothing without his involvement) to reject the offer to host the county seat. They did agree to sale adjacent land for the formation of a new town. Whipping posts, a short walk next door in a town by another name, are not the same as whipping post in the town square. The brethren sold 51 ¼ acres. adjacent to and on the North side of (TOUCHING!) Salem, to the new county for $265.00. Hence, the birth of Winston, by God’s own design, divided from Salem by what we know now as First Street. Don’t you wish you had a part in the return on that investment! How much are those improved 51 ¼ acres worth today?

The Second Mistake: The town of Winston was slow progressing but ultimately became a thriving industrial community safely situated literally next door to God’s pious people in Salem. Interestingly, many of those pious folk became successful and wealthy operating business next door to God’s neighborhood. If someone needed whipping, not a problem, take them a brief walk down the street! By 1913 apparently God realized his first mistake. What had become a reality, by it’s own aggressive development, became official through God’s direction, in the vote of the people. The dastardly DASH was added and the God forsaken in Winston and God’s people in Salem became one.

There is nothing like fixing your first screw up with a second. Couldn’t they have simply merged into one community called Winston or Salem? Why did both need to survive? Why do we all refer to Salem as Old Salem? Where is the New Salem? That’s another story. The first action, leading to having two cities side by side, was later corrected by adding this dastardly DASH. My always proper spouse says it is a hyphen, but what the heck do they know! If it is a hyphen our new/old ball team would have one major dumb name, as if the one they took on isn't dumb enough. Who has a town consisting of two names with a DASH in between? Apparently few since today's advanced computer technology doesn’t have the capacity to  deal with this problem consistently. You would think that God, being omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient God only wise, would have foreseen such a problem when this all began and allowed Salem to be the County seat. Wouldn't that have been much simpler than to cause such a problem for hundreds of thousands of people with that D--n DASH?

Think of all of the trouble those two mistakes have caused. There are two, very successful, competing cigarette brands everyone thinks our city was named after. How many folk has that killed made wealthy? Then there is the new mega million dollar baseball park for the new DASH baseball team. As if the name Warthogs wasn't enough of a disgrace. Without God's screw ups there would be no DASH. There was a major movement years ago to fix this screw up, apparently lead by some of the Winston side’s high rolling pecker-woods. Following the success of the fastest selling cigarette in the world, the group thought changing the overly complex, confusing name to simply Camel would be a good idea. Camel City, how neat is that? The Camel’s, now that’s an appropriate name for a baseball team. That didn't make it to the finish line.

Being the rebellious SOB that I am I have decided to simply turn back the clock, forgive God for all of his screw ups, as he has taught us, and refuse to acknowledge Winston or the dastardly DASH. I have fallen back to the original and appropriate name for our fair city, ordained by God himself, SALEM. I think he got it right before He started messing with it or someone wasn't paying attention to his desires. Hence the title of this blog "Walking Through Salem". Therefore this blog will cover our entire fair city including all of the reprobates in Winston, those on the DASH dividing line as well as the God fearing folk of what is now affectionately known as Old Salem. No Winston, no DASH, no Old Salem simply Salem for all inhabitants. Don’t like my reform, write your own D--n Blog. It's a new day in Salem.

The Last Days of Grassy Fork

Hint: Does local author Hunter James have a clue that he wrote about me in "The Last Days of Grassy Fork"? Can you find me in it? I think you might can afford $1.42 for a used copy, don't you? It will be worth it, this is one of the most entertaining books I have ever read about local lore. 


Better yet, support Hunter, purchase a new copy (click on book)!


Read this information from Amazon.com:

"For anyone concerned about the future of a great small city and its region, this cautionary tale is must reading." -- Winston-Salem Journal

"Highrollers and halfwits, preachers and peckerwoods, bootleggers and biblethumpers—James has drawn them all with a casual but accurate hand." -- Fred Chappell

"The account of his Glorious Lost Cause, standing athwart the path of History and yelling "Stop!" -- Wilmington Star

"The story of James' effort to fight off urban sprawl and keep his family homestead is both serious and hilarious." -- Bourbon Times

"There's enough in this cantankerous, laugh-out-loud funny yet ultimately sorrowful book to offend virtually everyone in Forysth County." -- Winston-Salem Journal

“Superbly written and hugely entertaining. James is an excellent writer and a natural storyteller.” -- William McKeen

The Last Days of Big Grassy Fork recounts newspaperman Hunter James’s attempts to save his 100-year-old family farm and homestead from extinction. Wise, irreverent, pugnacious, and often hilarious, James fights back against the galloping urbanization of his beloved North Carolina piedmont. Interweaving current affairs and family history, James details the growth of the Winston-Salem area as a center of Moravian piety and later as the world’s largest tobacco manufacturing center. This personal history shows he is not the only James to have had a difficult time fitting in with the neighbors’ idea of progress; his family’s trouble in the Piedmont began early. In 1904 his grandfather was flooded out of a brothel in his birthday suit, and he later scandalized the local Baptist church with drunken sermons, exposing the dark secrets of the congregation.

James’s unique sense of the absurd, and his willingness to play the fool, make for entertaining reading as each of his efforts at preservation fail miserably. He accidentally torches a neighbor’s barn in an attempt to burn off his best pasture land, as was always done in the past; he squanders enormous amounts of money vainly trying to save his farm by becoming the piedmont’s preeminent lord of the manor, vintner, wine snob, and horseman; and he finally seals his own doom when in alliance with his neighbors he inadvertently creates the “world’s largest garbage pit.”

The book ends with an eloquent plea for a true Agrarianism in the modern South, for the need to strike a balance between the call for industrial expansion and the desire to preserve the land.

In The Beginning

In the beginning, near the foundation of the blog, there was need for a blogger to explain what things are all about.

(hear the music?)

Purpose:

The purpose of this blog “Walking Through Salem” is two fold; DECIMATE entertaining, useful, sometimes questionable, information about Winston-Salem, and its surrounds, and HAVE FUN doing it. I wish to be free to feel the wind beneath my wings and set out where no man has tramped before. “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” Get the picture?

Who Am I:

Some days I am not sure therefore I understand that you might wonder. I will not state who I am, that is for you to consider on your own. I will include hints now and then. In fact I have given you a huge head start in About Me at the top right of this page. Even if you figure it out, don’t count on me for public, or private, confirmation of your position on this subject.

Spelling, Grammar, Punctuation and the Facts:

That may be a problem so, don’t take chances, and read my position by clicking on the link at the top right of this page titled - Spelling, Grammar and Punctuation Is that simple enough for you? Haven’t read this yet, then stay off of my back.

Legal Stuff:

Unfortunately, if you breathe one day you will meet an attorney for the plaintiff who will do everything in his power, using everything in his resources, to make your life miserable and take everything out of your pocket and place 33% of it in his. Right, wrong or indifferent is irrelevant. It is all about the cash. He will convince anyone, of anything, including his client, judge, and jury to win HIS case. Hence the link at the top right of this page titled Legal.

Now, let’s have some fun. It’s a new day in Salem

Lion’s Tooth

In the spring, intermediate patches of lawn, throughout Salem, are infested with Lion’s Tooth. Children are running about jostling in competition for the fullest pod. That ones mine, no its not, its mine. Oh, you beat me to it. What, children playing with Lions? Dent-de-lion means lion’s tooth in Old French named for its pointy leaves. Between kids, mesmerized adults, animals and wind Dandelion seed pods don’t stand a chance of remaining intact for long. Such is the plan to repopulate the scattered lawns with their jagged leaves, attractive yellow blooms and white fluffy seed pods of future Dandelion plants. The flowers yellow head can change into the familiar, white, globular seed head overnight. Each seed has a tiny parachute, spreading far and wide in the wind. Most gardeners detest them, but the more you try to weed them up, the faster they grow. This blog, will be a lion’s tooth filled with parachute seeds of photos, information, history, stories, tall tells, rumors and out right lies about people, places and things discovered in my walks through Salem. I am ripe and my seeds are ready to use this medium as the wind to scatter the contents of my mind across the ramparts of the world. Look out; you may be in for some immense surprises of mesmerizing information about your home or this place you may enjoy visiting. The more you try to weed me the more I will grow. It’s a new day in Salem.