February 12, 2000 |
C. Henry Longenecker, 85, a community leader who had operated a funeral home in North Wales for more than 30 years, died Tuesday at the medical facility of the Brittany Pointe Estates retirement community in Upper Gwynedd Township. He had Parkinson's disease. Mr. Longenecker served on the North Wales Borough Council in the early 1960s and was elected mayor in 1969. After graduation from mortuary school in 1938, he worked for two funeral homes before buying the Reuben H. Hartzell Funeral Home in North Wales in 1960.
October 17, 2010 |
Linda A. Clare Roth, 65, chief communications officer at Drexel University's College of Medicine and a civic leader, died of pancreatic cancer Thursday, Oct. 14, at Paoli Memorial Hospital. Mrs. Roth, of Berwyn, oversaw the communications and marketing department, maintained the website, and organized fund-raising events, raising more than $5 million. "Linda was a great friend and an outstanding professional who served the College of Medicine for more than a decade," said Richard V. Homan, dean and president of health affairs.
December 20, 1986 |
He hears you, Philadelphia. John Spagnola hears you. He has heard you call his name these many years on autumn Sunday afternoons at the Vet, heard the cheers as he trotted to the huddle, heard the boos when he was taken out of a game. He has never been quite sure why you like him so, because he has never been a superstar with the Eagles, has set no NFL records, has never quite made it to the Pro Bowl. He is just John Spagnola from Bethlehem, married to a Bethlehem girl, still paying off a student loan for his education at Yale, a discarded ninth-round draft choice from the New England Patriots, a leftover from Dick Vermeil's Super Bowl bunch and, for now at least, a survivor of the 1986 Buddy Ryan purge.
May 7, 1999 |
The novelist Philip Roth, who made his reputation satirizing aspects of American culture, recently declared that satire is dead in this country. Dead because the heightened absurdity employed by the satirist to skewer culture had become culture, rendering the satirist obsolete, or at least redundant. And this was before the Monica Lewinsky scandal. Indeed, "Wag the Dog," conceived as a satire, became notorious because its dreamed-up farce about a president under fire turned out to be so uncannily like the actual scandal unfolding in Washington.
May 30, 1991 |
There have been men at Vassar College now for 22 years, but the lovely campus here still reflects a certain feminine gentility. So does the commencement, which begins with women sophomores carrying a 150-foot daisy chain, the flowers woven with laurel leaves in tribute to the graduates. That was charming, and for us, so was the fact that one of ours, my stepson, was one of those graduates. That's four down and one to go. But the charm of the big day, last Sunday, faded quickly as it became apparent that there was more going on around here than most parents knew.
May 14, 1990 |
For seven months, Michael Brown was the lone pupil in a makeshift classroom, isolated from his classmates because his school had no elevator to move him from floor to floor. For Michael, whose hands and legs are weakened by muscular dystrophy, going to school meant going to the library at John F. Kennedy Junior High School in Willingboro. Most of his lessons were taught by a tutor. "I was not too popular with all the kids," said the 13-year-old, a small- framed boy with a ready laugh, "because I didn't know all the kids I should've known, because I wasn't in the classes.
June 28, 1989 |
About 60 Glassboro residents gathered Sunday to discuss events that have barely had enough time to become memories. Three years after President Reagan spoke at Glassboro High School's commencement, borough residents were trading stories about his visit with the kind of nostalgic tone reserved for 10-year reunions. "It was a tremendous feeling having him here," said George Beach Jr., the president of Glassboro's Board of Education. "Anybody can tell you that the president is coming.
June 19, 1988 |
Sixty years had gone by, but no one forgot. Not so much as a note or a word. As one, members of the Frankford High School Class of 1928 rose from their chairs and, accompanied on the piano by Jenny Collins, sang their alma mater. Their voices were strong and clear, far younger than their years. Though eyes seemed a bit misty here and there, no one choked up. No one missed a beat, no one lost the thread of the words, no one had to hum his or her way through the bridge. Clearly, it was their school and their song and, for a few moments, it was yesterday again.
July 2, 2007 |
He is not the legendary Mr. Chips, but he is just as beloved, judging by the way his name is spoken and the way people flock to him for a big, warm bear hug. These people are now successful adults - school principals, teachers, business owners, doctors and other professionals - but they suddenly become giddy children again when they see Mr. Burns, the teacher who kept many of them, they say, from becoming a statistic. Jim Burns taught fifth and sixth grades in three inner-city schools in North and West Philadelphia for 40 years, becoming a hero and a mentor to students.
July 16, 1995 |
After watching this year's seniors become the first in recent memory to skip the class trip, the 1996 seniors-to-be are already washing cars, selling cheesecake, baking brownies and hoping to revive a school tradition. For at least 17 years, members of the senior class have banded together for an end-of-the-year trip, said Katy Travaline, class president. Traditionally, the groups have landed in Orlando, Fla., a mecca for high school seniors. "It's what senior classes do," Travaline said.