Pop Pop

AS A 15-year-old girl, I think WAY too much. You can ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you just that. So when someone tells me something and expects a simple response, they won't get it from me. I perceive things differently from the way most teenagers would. It can occasionally be annoying, but on the other hand, it also allows me to see things for what they really are. Thus, the stories my grandfather has been telling me my entire life are much more than just entertainment.

Herbert Margolies, 76, who was a beloved character in a best-selling book by his daughter, Marjorie Margolies Mezvinsky, died Friday at Graduate Hospital. He lived at Kennedy House in the 1900 block of JFK Boulevard. Mr. Margolies was known as "Pop-pop" in They Came to Stay, a book Mezvinsky wrote about her successful effort to become the first single American woman to adopt a foreign-born child. "Truly, people still walk up to me today and ask, 'How's Pop-pop?' " Mezvinsky, a former WCAU-TV reporter who is now with WRC-TV in Washington, D.C., said yesterday.

John Chester Krier, a New Hanover man charged with sexually assaulting young boys who considered him a family friend, has been sentenced to six to 15 years in state prison. Krier, 38, known as "Pop Pop" to the boys, was sentenced Monday by Montgomery County Court Judge Stanley R. Ott. After the hearing, as the boys scrambled around the courthouse halls, their mothers said they were relieved by the sentence. Assistant District Attorney Thomas C. Egan 3d, who prosecuted the case, called it one of the worst he had ever seen - saying it was worse than that of former Shawmont Elementary School music teacher Gregory J. DiFonzo.

"Pop-Pop," said the youngest grandson, "I'm writing about you for my school project. " Pop-Pop felt a warm rush. The lad hadn't picked Washington to write about. Or Lincoln. Or Franklin. Or even Wolverine of the X-Men. No, sir, he was writing about Pop-Pop. His Pop-Pop. And what, pray tell, were the criteria for the bestowing of such a high honor? "I'm supposed to write about the oldest person I know. " Pop-Pop hoped the lad couldn't hear the hissing air escaping from the deflated balloon.

WHEN I was a schoolteacher in Olney, a fellow teacher used to regale the staff every September with stories about his travels to Mexico and South and Central America. Relaxing! A journey he'd never forget, he'd crow a little too loudly in staff meetings as he passed around pictures. I still remember the nausea I felt when I opened a national news magazine a few years later to see his face on a story about international child predators. He was serving 10 years in a Mexican prison for soliciting sex from children the same age that he taught at our school.

The mourners knew it wasn't Tex. Nearly everyone who passed the silver casket at Tindley Temple United Methodist Church yesterday morning whispered to each other. That's not Tex, they said. But the corpse was wearing his blue suit and black boots. The late Kenneth "Tex" Roberts, 80, who died Monday of a heart attack, was a jovial, mustached, retired tractor-trailer driver who loved to tell jokes, play cards and help people when they were down. On Monday night, Roberts' wife, Janie Holsey, and others went to check the body at James L. Hawkins Funeral Home, at 1640 Federal St., and told a female employee: "This is not my husband.

She gives thanks for grandfather, his service This year I am thankful for many things, but most of all for my grandfather Charles Robert Thompson. He is a World War II veteran who served in the Pacific as a corpsman on the Pensacola and other ships. He was at sea during Pearl Harbor while my grandmother and their toddler (my mother) were on land. And he watched as the Yorktown was destroyed and sank. On Memorial Day, our whole family celebrated the dedication of the National World War II Memorial in Washington with Pop-Pop.

When: First Tuesday in November, 2020. Where: The suburbs. "Kobe! Gwynneth! Get up right now. You know Mommy has to stop at the church to vote on the way to taking you to school. " "Awwwww, Mom. Do you have to? Letitia says voting is so lame; they're all crooks and it's all about the money, and there's no difference between Santorum and Jesse Jr. anyhow. " "Gwynneth Faulkner, I never heard such nonsense. Kobe, sit here by your sister. Now listen to me, both of you. I'm going to tell you about the election of 2000.

THERE SEEMS little doubt that Sasha Wrencher was born to sing. "She'd been singing since she could talk," said her stepfather, Bishop James Warren, pastor of the church where Sasha was the star soprano. "She had such a strong voice, she was the sole member of the soprano section of our choir. " In addition to dazzling the parishioners of Pleasant Hill Church, in West Philadelphia, Sasha took her amazing voice throughout the region as a member of a family gospel group and at various functions where religious music was the feature.

DeForia "Jake" Coleman, 44, a city police officer whose fun-loving spirit toward children in his West Philadelphia neighborhood earned him the nickname "Pop Pop," died Tuesday after suffering a heart attack. Mr. Coleman served as a police officer for 13 years before chronic illness forced him to retire on disability in 1978. He had spent most of his time with the department in the Sixth District, at 11th and Winter Streets. Law enforcement had come to him as a family tradition.

WHEN I was a schoolteacher in Olney, a fellow teacher used to regale the staff every September with stories about his travels to Mexico and South and Central America. Relaxing! A journey he'd never forget, he'd crow a little too loudly in staff meetings as he passed around pictures. I still remember the nausea I felt when I opened a national news magazine a few years later to see his face on a story about international child predators. He was serving 10 years in a Mexican prison for soliciting sex from children the same age that he taught at our school.

THERE SEEMS little doubt that Sasha Wrencher was born to sing. "She'd been singing since she could talk," said her stepfather, Bishop James Warren, pastor of the church where Sasha was the star soprano. "She had such a strong voice, she was the sole member of the soprano section of our choir. " In addition to dazzling the parishioners of Pleasant Hill Church, in West Philadelphia, Sasha took her amazing voice throughout the region as a member of a family gospel group and at various functions where religious music was the feature.

THIS IS our time! So keep sending your Phillies fan stories and photos to: LITTLE ROCCO: Beth Danio sent Billy a photo of Rocco Danio III, 4 months old, to prove that although she and husband Rocco Danio Jr. moved to Winter Springs, Fla., they remain true to their Northeast Philly roots. Beth wrote: "Both our families have been rooted in Philly since the 1920s and still live there. We all grew up with The Voice - Harry Kalas. "Little Rocco watches games already," Beth said.

U.S. Rep. Chaka Fattah has two elections on his mind these days. The first is his race to serve a ninth term in the U.S. House of Representatives - which he seems certain to win on Election Day in November. The second is far less predictable. Fattah, a member of the powerful House Appropriations Committee, is waging a campaign among his Democratic colleagues to win the post of committee chairman. His rival is Washington Rep. Norman Dicks, who has far more seniority on the panel.

Overbrook's Sam Borrelli, playing with a heavy heart, slammed a two-run double Tuesday to break open a state Group 2 softball semifinal against Governor Livingston, and the Rams went on to a 10-3 victory. Overbrook is scheduled to play Indian Hills, an 8-2 winner Tuesday over West Essex, for the state Group 2 championship Saturday in Toms River. The game will be at Toms River North or East, according to the NJSIAA, which will decide Wednesday. Borrelli, a senior pitcher and shortstop, lost her grandfather, Francis "Micky" Gregory, to a heart attack the night before the game.

AS THE Phillies fight Rocky-like odds in tonight's do-or-die World Series Game 6 at Yankee Stadium, here's a jolt of hope from a phanatic South Philly family: NO BUTTS ABOUT IT: "I was 5 months old for my first game, Opening Day 1985," said Alexis Student, 24, who's from three generations of Packer Park Phillies fans. "I tell people this to prove that I'm not just one of those girls who watch the game to stare at the players' butts. I'm a girl who understands the game.

The mourners knew it wasn't Tex. Nearly everyone who passed the silver casket at Tindley Temple United Methodist Church yesterday morning whispered to each other. That's not Tex, they said. But the corpse was wearing his blue suit and black boots. The late Kenneth "Tex" Roberts, 80, who died Monday of a heart attack, was a jovial, mustached, retired tractor-trailer driver who loved to tell jokes, play cards and help people when they were down. On Monday night, Roberts' wife, Janie Holsey, and others went to check the body at James L. Hawkins Funeral Home, at 1640 Federal St., and told a female employee: "This is not my husband.

"Pop-Pop," said the youngest grandson, "I'm writing about you for my school project. " Pop-Pop felt a warm rush. The lad hadn't picked Washington to write about. Or Lincoln. Or Franklin. Or even Wolverine of the X-Men. No, sir, he was writing about Pop-Pop. His Pop-Pop. And what, pray tell, were the criteria for the bestowing of such a high honor? "I'm supposed to write about the oldest person I know. " Pop-Pop hoped the lad couldn't hear the hissing air escaping from the deflated balloon.

AS A 15-year-old girl, I think WAY too much. You can ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you just that. So when someone tells me something and expects a simple response, they won't get it from me. I perceive things differently from the way most teenagers would. It can occasionally be annoying, but on the other hand, it also allows me to see things for what they really are. Thus, the stories my grandfather has been telling me my entire life are much more than just entertainment.

'Sometimes I listen to my music," Rickie Lee Jones is saying, as she sits in an Old City cafe around the corner from the Painted Bride Art Center, where the peripatetic singer is in the midst of a residency that runs three consecutive Wednesdays, continuing tomorrow. "And I think, 'How is it that you have a job? You really suck.' And then sometimes I listen to it and I say to myself: 'How come everybody in the world doesn't say that you're the greatest?' " The latter conclusion would be more logical.