Issue 1 - Winter 2006

(first published winter of 2006)

Welcome to the first edition of The Bridge, a monthly journal of ideas and creative writing, local themes, poems, ponderings… and life… that too.

Our first edition was written primarily by the two founders, Val Brkich and Nathan Peluso. You very well may hear from us again, as we do occasionally meet in pizzerias or coffee shops for such occasion. But yes, our goal was to create a place to showcase your writings too, a platform for the local people to put their ideas forward, to the greater community that we all belong to. Our goal was to bridge that space between us, and make it something more.

Of course“The Bridge” that we refer to has a physical presence, spanning the mighty Ohio at the mouth of the Beaver River. And as a literary journal, we made sure it had a metaphorical meaning too. Though we care not to limit this in writing, not by saying that a bridge is a connection, a bridge is creation, a bridge is everything. It is black. It can be white.

If you’re interested in contributing, please send in. We welcome all writings under 500 words. And feel free to write freely! We are not censors. At the same time we are limited by space (for now). And we may try to theme particular editions. The Bridge will also try and keep a few staple articles, like “In Town” and “The Reintegration Project” that you will see resurface on a monthly basis.

In each edition, we would also like to showcase a group of local downtown businesses and discuss what they mean to us. For this edition, we discuss coffee shops, and in a broader context, downtowns.

We look forward to keeping this going. We hope you enjoy. And we look forward to hearing from you.

Regards,
Val Brkich and Nathan Peluso


Downtown for the Holidays

The Holiday Season is once again upon us, and you all know what that means: PRESENTS! That’s right, nothing says ‘I love you’ better than a new iPod, X-Box or any other bizarrely named electronic gadget that’s going to be obsolete before you can even get it out of the box on Christmas morning. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year!

But this year, before you go rushing out to those big box stores to spend all your hard earned dough, why not first check out the merchants in your own downtown district? Here in Beaver County, we’re lucky enough to have a number of quaint, unique downtown areas, each with it’s own unique style and character. In years past, long before strip malls and big box stores, people would gather in their downtown to do their Holiday shopping, and take advantage of the invaluable knowledge and service that these stores provide.

When our area went through the difficult economic times of the early 1980s and people moved out of the region, many of these downtown regions struggled to survive. But somehow they did.

Then, when the malls began to pop up and the big box stores came in to gobble up all of the business, our downtown areas once again faced extinction. But still they held on.

Today, thanks to so many ambitious, courageous, resilient entrepreneurs, our downtown districts are beginning to thrive once again. People are starting to realize how important their main street is to the community as a whole. When you try to do at least some of your shopping downtown, it has a positive ripple effect on the community. When your merchants get more business, they’re able to offer you more at lower costs. Plus, when you shop in town, you get to visit and talk with your neighbors and friends from your community. The result is a positive, friendly environment that everyone can enjoy. (And, as an added bonus, you won’t get bogged down in all that annoying traffic around the malls, saving you time and headaches.)

This year, make a concerted effort to support the downtown shops in your community, and enjoy an old-fashioned Holiday shopping experience. You’ll be happier overall, and your community will thank you for it.

For a complete listing of merchants and restaurants in your downtown district, visit: www.towncenter.info


In Town
By Valentine J. Brkich

My name is Val Brkich, and I am a coffee-aholic.

My longtime affair with the coffee bean began in my youth. My grandparents, who apparently didn’t think I was hyper enough, used to give me a little bit of coffee whenever they’d babysit me. It was love at first sip.

High school was when my obsession with coffee really took off. Every morning before school, a couple friends and I would head down to Pappan’s Restaurant (where Wendy’s is now) and suck down about five or six cups each before heading off to class. You know, it’s funny…you’d think that would have kept me awake, at least until lunch.

In college, coffee became my best friend. I never went to class without a piping hot mug of java to keep me company. In the late night study hours, coffee kept me going until I had finished cramming for the next day’s test.

When I finally made it into the corporate arena, coffee was really the only thing that kept me going crazy. Every morning, as I sat within my cubicle wondering where I had gone wrong, coffee would talk me down from the ledge and somehow get me through the day.

So as you can see, I have a bona fide addition to coffee. Thankfully I’m not alone. Although tea is giving it a run for its money, coffee is still king in the United States. Everyday millions of groggy Americans drag themselves out of bed for work, but not before stopping at their favorite coffee shop for a cup of that magical elixir that helps them forget just how much they hate their job. (I’m just kidding, of course. Not everyone hates his job. Just the people with the really crappy ones.)

If you’re a fellow coffee lunatic, you’ll be happy to know that our beloved Beaver County is now home to several new, unique coffeehouses, none of which refer to their sizes as “Venti” or “Grande,” thank goodness. These cozy little gathering places are not only helping to feed the addition of us coffee-crazies, but they’re also helping to renew and revitalize our downtown districts.

If you haven’t had the chance yet, make it a point to check out each and every one of these exciting cafes. Just make sure you save a cup of regular for me.

Café Kolache – 402 3rd St. Beaver, 724.775.8102, www.cafekolache.com/
The Blue Violet Cafe – 158 Brighton Avenue, Rochester, 724.770.0690, www.bluevioletcafe.com
Uncommon Grounds – 380 Franklin Avenue, Aliquippa, 724.375.6141, www.uncommongroundscafe.org
The Silk House – 317 Fourteenth Street, Ambridge, 724.385.0172, www.silkhousecafe.com
The Coffee Buzz – 4969 Tusca Plaza, Brighton Township, 724.495.3455


the reintegration project

basically, if one were to track the course of events over the last, well, 10,000 years, one might think, “wow, what progress!... look how much we’ve done & just how far we’ve gone”. wow. impressive, right? just not that long ago we were sitting in rudimentary shacks around a five stone campfire munching grilled buffalo right off the bone.

[but is it true…? wasn’t it really peaceful, and real?]

and now, wham! we’ve come right out of the woods and right into the living room and jabbed a few buttons with our left pinky finger and, just like that, a picture spans the globe to our farthest, closest friend. another button, and boo-ah, the t.v. flickers bright with Monday night football. we grab them corn chips and salsa and dip away til the break of dawn or til the brewski’s run dry, whatever comes first. such an easy life, i don’t even have to kill the buffalo.

fine, that’s all fine.

but a proponent, however slight, of the reintegration project, might ponder aloud, “the buffalo, you say? look, you do still have to kill the buffalo, you just don’t know it. in fact, you just killed it by biting that chip… did ya know it?” and you would look at him in awe, that friend.

and another might add, “but look how far we’ve gone… away”. and that’s the bridge that the reintegration project is here to help us gap. the bridge between bite and buffalo. the bridge between a warm earnest campfire and that of an arched back by a computer screen. the bridge of life, and that of death. the bridge between action and consequence. the bridge between you and me. the bridge between flower and tree. the bridge that calls us free. the bridge between us all. the one and only bridge of responsibility, awareness, harmony, nature, war, oil, rainforest, ocean, and the future, deaths, destructions, and love.

[picture of a stick figure leaning away from a sketch of the earth]

the reintegratin project

definition: being one, again, with the earth

- an act or instance of combining into an integral whole

- behavior, as of an individual, that is in harmony with the environment

whoa! sounds intimidating. yeah, it kind of does. but don’t be dismayed, this is really quite a simple project – it’s one that each of us can participate in, together, because that’s the whole point: we’re all here together.

here in the first issue of ‘the bridge’, we’re talking downtowns and main streets, and the point is to only want to make one major point: when you do anything, it matters, and when you shop downtown, it matters too. when you walk that casual cornerstore from home and say hi to the friendly souls behind the counter, it matters.

or instead, when you get in that car and drive, drive, drive to the big gray box on the brutally scalped hill filled with a royal blue clad army of minimum wage part-timers basking under fluorescent lights, it matters too. like a vote for president, who might think that one can really count, that one lowly number. but it does. the reintegration project will thus ask – to think of how you matter. think of what you do and how it relates. when you take that one step forward, it matters, and not only to the pavement beneath your feet, but to the one who put it there, and to what’s no longer there.

think of how you once lived in the woods, healthy, and unified. think of the green and the life.

think of what was there before you put your foot down… and of all else in between.

and try and put it back together, again.


Tree-Hugger Tips of the Month

• Next time you’re heading to the supermarket or the bank, why not walk instead of drive? You’ll save gas and money, plus you’ll burn quite a few calories along the way. Try it. You’ll be surprised how much better you’ll feel.
• Recycle whenever possible. Sure, recycling can be a hassle; but the benefits far outweigh the effort. Look for recycling receptacles in and around your town, sometimes near your local municipal building. For more information, visit: www.co.beaver.pa.us/WasteManagement/
• The next time you’re out on your daily walk, bring along a plastic bag for any trash you find along the way. That way you’ll be making yourself AND your town look better at the same time!


Submissions and Advertising

The Bridge is here to serve you. Of course we want to provide you with some entertaining, educational articles and ideas. At the same time, we want to give you a platform to speak your mind, share your stories and promote your community activities.

If you have a book club, an art exhibit, an instructional class, or any other FREE or charitable event you'd like to promote, this is the place to do it.

The Bridge does not permit soliciting of any kind. Advertisments and listings are for FREE events or services only.

If you have a positive event to promote, e-mail us at ContactTheBridge@gmail.com.


Political Thoughts

George Washington, from the Farewell Address:

“I have already intimated to you the danger of Parties in the State, with particular reference to the founding of them on Geographical discriminations. Let me now take a more comprehensive view, and warn you in the most solemn manner against the baneful effects of the Spirit of Party, generally.

“This spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from our nature, having its root in the strongest passions of the human Mind. It exists under different shapes in all Governments, more or less stifled, controuled [sic], or repressed; but, in those of the popular form it is seen in its greatest rankness and its truly their worst enemy.

“The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge natural to party disention [sic], which in different ages and countries has perpetrated the most horrid enormities, is itself frightful despotism…[T]he common and continual mischiefs of the spirit of Party are sufficient to make it in the interest and the duty of a wise People to discourage and restrain it.”


Bring Back the Trains

You may have noticed the logo for The Bridge resembles a well-known Beaver County landmark. The P&LE Railroad Ohio River Bridge spans the mighty Ohio from Beaver to Monaca. This black-iron beauty is a engineering marvel and a personal favorite of many Beaver Countians (yours included). I’ve taken hundreds photographs of the bridge over the years. There’s just something about it. It’s truly amazing that a structure that was built almost one hundred years ago (1909) is still in use today, and is able to handle the incredible weight of today’s freight trains.

I bet that there’s a lot of you out there who have never given the P&LE bridge a second glance. Well, you should, especially in the evening as the sun begins to set in the west. That’s when the bridge is the most beautiful. The setting sun’s rays reflect off of the structure’s black paint, creating a stunning orange glow that’s really breathtaking. But don’t take my word for it; check it out yourself.

The reason why I bring up this bridge is because at one time it was more than just a viaduct to provide safe passage to freight trains along the CSX rail line. At one time, many years ago, the bridge was the starting and ending point for passenger trains along those same tracks. Commuters heading downtown could catch the train at the Beaver Train Station and cross the bridge on their way into the city. Likewise, they would return back across the bridge before pulling back into the station on their way back to Beaver. I’m sure many of you out there still remember riding that passenger line. Unfortunately, I was born a little too late to experience passenger rail service on the P&LE. Needless to say, I’m a little bitter about that.

I have been on the bridge before, just not in a train. (Hold your ears, Mom.) My friends and I used to walk out on it when we were younger and crouch down on one of the piers when a train came along. Was it a smart thing to do? No. Would I recommend other kids do the same? No. But there’s a lot of things I did when I was younger that I wouldn’t do now.

It’s about time we take advantage of the rail system we have here and bring back passenger rail service to the Beaver Valley. Not only would this allow me to live one of my lifelong dreams of riding across my favorite train bridge; but more importantly, it would be a benefit to our region in so many ways.

I’ve been hearing it all my life. People are always complaining about the commute into Pittsburgh. It’s too long. There’s too much traffic. It puts too much mileage on my vehicle. It’s too expensive, with the gas prices as high as they are. Rail service would be a wonderful alternative to the daily commute along Route 65 or 60. Sure, I know we have bus service as an alternative to driving; but anyone who’s ever ridden the bus (I have) can tell you it’s not exactly a pleasurable experience.

Passenger rail service just makes sense. It’s good for economic progress; it’s good for the environment; it’s a good remedy for traffic congestion; quite simply, it’s a good idea. We already have the rail lines. All we need is a train. I’d buy one myself, but my freelance writer’s income just won’t cut it.

Imagine how nice it would be on a Friday night to catch the train into Pittsburgh for dinner. I don’t know about you, but I rarely go into the city for dinner, not because it’s a long commute, but because I like to have a glass or two of wine with my meal and I don’t want to drink and drive on the way home. That’s another bonus of a passenger rail system: fewer drunk drivers on the road.

I could go on and on about the benefits of bringing back the passenger rail system, but I only have so much room in here to write. If you agree with me drop me an email (ContactTheBridge@gmail.com), or, better yet, write your county commissioners, write the governor, and let them know that you want the trains back. Of course, I’m not sure of the logistics involved in accomplishing this, but if enough people want it, I know we can make it happen.

Let’s follow the lead of the hundreds of other cities in our country and around the world that already understand the benefits of a passenger rail system. Let’s bring the passenger trains back to Beaver County.


-Pedestrians in Suburbia-

Pedestrians in suburbia
Like funny winter ducks, lost
In a sullen, barren winter pond
Waddling, wandering, and searching
Within a frozen landscape
Landed on their own, skimming the top or
Dropped off by the local 114, people, vapidly
Routed towards a boxlike structure
By another, moving boxlike structure, with wheels
Dropped roadside… its all roads here, to
Their work, daily or life force expended, alas
Within the new, badly-shaven, near mortally-scathed hilltop
Each construction a wound, begging to heal
Infused though, a scab continually rubbed raw, and scratched again, bled
But again, the people, like the funny, un-migrated ducks
Fumbling and confused, “Quack!”…
Translated, “Where’s my bread, my soul, my home???”
Swimmingly pondered aloud, by these creatures, wanting,
Of course, an empathetic ear, near, to so caringly hear!!!!
Or even to begin to confuse such banterings as commonspeak,
A language, the words of live animals;
For within the suburbs, the sprawl, the leftover pond…
Unfrozen words hold no water
And unfrozen ducks swim in random circles
Sometimes confused as background sodder
Always left, without bread
Until the springtime thaws, people come, walking, bearing gifts
Or their own forgiving nature coming forth; bread, fed, to all
And grass so green, like the full ocean
Tide, washing, filling the old pond with the same water
Only yesterday, our friends left so damn serene… this place,
Then we came, and ruined it… for the ducks…
… The pondering, circling, misconstrued ducks!


Moravia

Everytime Val and I would drive to Westminster College, we would reach that vague hinterland between here and there, and one of us would look up first and see the sign that read “Moravia”… then, glancing over with some sort of dark, sinister empathy, “Moravia!”, one of us would threaten with a raspy, scary, aggressiveness. and the other always responding, “Aaah, Moravia!”, then we would flash the Motley Crue devil sign and repeat that famous word, “Moravia”, the both of us, and we would giggle or laugh until the thought of such a place, so demonic and strange to our young American ears, would pass.

It was a green field and a rolling bunch of hills. There was a town somehow set into it. Not much more was known. Neither of us had ever been there, nor had we ever dared meet someone from there, not by accident, fortune, nor opportunity. “Moravia”, and I thought of once my Dad told me about some missionaries from Europe, German I thought, who had come over to spread the word of good peace and many Christian prosperities. One name that came to mind was Joseph Heckwelder, but I couldn’t remember if he was a Moravian or not. “A Moravian”, and what was that?

Not until yesterday did I put any connection together with reality, for when I picked up that guide on my newest of destinations, Czech Republic, there was that oh so familiar of names, “Moravia!”… “Aaaah”…. And I could hardly believe my eyes. Really, could it be? That after so much time and ambiguity, after so many car trips, both to and fro, with my dearest of friends Val, flashing devil signs and rasping, or growling you might say, that word, “Moravia”… finally, it’s source was known. Eastern Czech Republic.

Before of course this was part of Czechoslovakia, and before that surely Germany and God knows how many other random conglomerates of peoples identifying with one name. But now it was a region and that region held a special place in not just my own identity as a person and place, but also Val’s. Oh must I email him soon.

And now I write this letter of sorts on a computer on a balcony in the town of Olomouc… in the region of Moravia. I feel distantly at home here. I feel distantly in a dream or vague fantasy. What really did this place ever mean to me, or Val? And what could it someday? I hear hammers and the buzzing of a saw. The sign is burning a new day through undaunted, but reasonably cheery clouds. I need to eat breakfast. I need to get out there and see this new day.



Winter Reads

White Crosses – Larry Watson
A Walk in the Woods – Bill Bryson
The Alchemist – Paulo Coelho


Download It!

“Let Down” – Radiohead
“Violence in Snowy Fields” – Dolorean
“Amsterdam” – Coldplay