Pennsylvania Avenue

I grew up in rural Pennsylvania, it was a magical place. Dillsburg to be precise. A lot of historic romantic charm. Farm fresh food. Small town feel. I grew up on a farm with a pond, very idyllic. We could catch bass and catfish whenever we felt like it. Locust Hill Farm was my home. Small local amusement parks like Williams Grove provided old wooden coasters, swan boats, and fun houses. Its closed down now. Bumble Bee Hollow had a fun mini-golf course. It isn’t there either. We used to go on picnics outside for fun. Ashcombe’s was a local nursery where we could get gifts, flowers, or a slice of pumpkin pie. About 20 miles from the battle of Gettysburg. In the shadow of the sweetest place on earth, Hershey. In the shadow of the state capital, Harrisburg. It was an old log cabin style farm house. It was decorated with George Washington statues, old German mugs, Oriental Rugs, portraits of James K. Polk and Napoleon Bonaparte. Animals everywhere. We would get some great Amish food and desserts from the farmer’s market. The farm was across the street from some of James Logan’s family property. James Logan mentored Ben Franklin. Four seasons. Yellow, Red, Orange autumn leaves. Perfect white powdery Christmas every year. Cicadas in the springtime. Soccer practice. We could pick wild raspberries in my backyard, a vineyard of grapes like you have never tasted, and honeysuckle we could pluck ourselves. My Father was a dentist as his father before him. My Dad’s cousin Pete was also a Doctor who invented one the first franchise EMS systems in the United States. First generation worked in the coal mines, every generation after advanced as far as they could. We would spend every summer in Delaware at our condo at the beach. They had classic funnel cakes, sno-cones, New York style Pizza, Maryland style Crab Shacks… toy shops, book shops. We would ride our bikes into town, perfectly safe. However, not all was well. I grew up in a very sad home. Relational strife abounding. We had plenty of money, but we were low on love. Mom against Dad. Dad against Mom. Fighting. Siblings not knowing what to do. I grew up in a haunted house in many ways. We had money, but it was still hell on earth. I know in life there always seems to be a dichotomy between having money and being happy. Like they are mutually exclusive. Which to some extent is true. More Money, More Problems. A simple life is much less stress. However, I have never been persuaded that you cannot have your cake and eat it too. I don’t buy the lie that money is inherently a curse. The love of money is the curse, not the money itself. Just look at William Penn. Study the Quakers. They had their cake and ate it too. They founded companies left and right, they were humble even at the highest levels of society. They married and had kids. They dressed well but plain, not bourgeoisie. We should all do the same, this is the real origin of American Culture. It has been a battle to get to the place I am in today, but it has been well worth it. I climbed out of the pit of hell. It took me 30 years, I am still standing. ❤️, Jamry

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