The sky was dark when we left Youngstown this morning. When we turned north onto PA State Highway 8, it was like driving at night. Rain started falling and continued for the remainder of our very long day.
Our destination was Oil City, PA. Back in the summer of 1968, Karen and her family moved from Placentia, CA to Oil City when her father’s employer transferred him. Karen spent her sophomore year of high school in this town before the family returned to California for the 1969 school year. Over the years, I’ve heard many stories of what it was like to be a California kid being suddenly inserted into a small community in northwest Pennsylvania. Today was Karen’s chance to revisit the site after 52 years.
Our first stop was the old Victorian house where the Conroy family lived. This part of town is now known as the Southern Historical District. The stately houses in this area are still well-preserved. The land along the Allegheny River rises steeply from Front Street (along the riverbank) up through a series of numbered streets. Karen lived on Third Street, which is already high up on a hill.
The house still looks remarkably similar to when Karen lived there. It has three stories, an attic, a basement, two living rooms, a dining room, six bedrooms and three bathrooms, with a separate stairway from the kitchen to the upper floors. Karen remembers the house, the street and the distances between various points in the neighborhood as being much bigger and farther than they are today. I think this is a common sensation when you return to a place you experienced in your youth.
From there, we drove down Division Street toward the river. Karen remembers sledding down this steep street in the winter all the way from Third Street to Front Street. Based on the amount of traffic we saw on First Street (not to mention the stop sign for traffic on Division), this would not be very safe today. We made a quick stop at the banks of the Allegheny River, where Karen used to play in the ‘peanut butter pond’, which were mud flats lining the river.
After crossing Petroleum Ave., and then crossing the river, we went into the old downtown area. Karen remembers walking across what was likely the Center Street Bridge on bitterly cold winter days with a brisk wind blowing down the river.
Oil City is known for being one of the major players in the early days of the petroleum business. Oil was discovered there in the mid-nineteenth century and the place became the center of the oil industry. At one time, it was the headquarters for Pennzoil and Quaker State Oil. Apparently, it is also the place where the bane of the oil business – the oil spill – got its start. A plaque near the Center Street Bridge explains this.
Next on our tour was Oil City High School. Karen remembers riding the school bus ‘way out of town’ to get to the school. In actuality, the school is at the top of the very steep hill that rises from the river. I don’t know how the bus drivers get up and down those hills every day, but they’ve got to be skilled bus operators. School did not appear to be in session today (kids are probably doing virtual classes), so we had no problems getting a photo.
With a steady rain falling, we drove southeast down through the rolling foothills of the Appalachian Mountains through central Pennsylvania toward the Maryland border. We took a combination of two lane roads and interstate highways, since there is no direct route into the Washington, D.C. area. We passed through many quaint little towns that look like they haven’t changed much in the past 150 years. Along one of these highways, we grabbed outstanding pulled pork sandwiches from Gio’s ‘Award-Winning’ BBQ (the 1987 newspaper article documenting this award, posted on a wall inside the restaurant, appears to validate the claim) and wolfed them down in the next door trucker’s parking lot.
Many hours later, and with the rain coming down even harder, we made a stop in Herndon to say hello to Stephanie and Stephan. Stephanie took us over to say a quick hello to our friends, Al and Mercia. Today is Al’s birthday and he’d organized an outdoor concert at his house in celebration. The huge thunderstorms that moved in this afternoon caused this to be postponed until Sunday.
Finally, with just under 4000 miles on our trip odometer, we drove through rain, thunder and lightning to Uncle John’s house in Arlington, where we’ll be staying during our visit here in Virginia. Many thanks to Andrew and Alison for setting this up for us. And, a special thanks to Andrew for the fresh chicken he left us in the refrigerator!
Next: Some R & R
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