At Last!

I've been away from this blog for a while and some of you may have wondered where I've been. If you look closely at the name of the author of the book posted above, you can figure it out pretty easily. My second book has been published by The History Press. It's been a whirlwind the last few months. The publisher told me they wanted the book in February of this year. I thought, terrific, I'm done! Well, no, not quite...

I've spent the last six months learning the intricacies of today's modern traditional publishing world. The manuscript was edited once again (for the third time) and had to be formatted a specific way. The pictures had to be in a specific form and captions and credits coordinated. Last minute corrections in a photo credit resulted in hysteria (on my part) and calm comments and action (on the publisher's part).

The book was formally published on June 22 and we had the book launch last night at the wonderful Murder on the Beach Mystery Bookstore in Delray Beach. Why Delray when the stories are from Northern Palm Beach County? Because it's one of two independent bookstores left in Palm Beach County and as far as I know, the only one of the two that welcomes author signings and launch parties! 

I first entered this great book shop to meet the incredible Prudy Taylor Board at one of HER author signings and my writing career accelerated faster than I thought possible thanks to her guidance. The book launch for my first book, Betty Tales: The True Story of a Brave Bobblehead Cat was held there, too, so the store has a sentimental pull for me--not to mention I love browsing and buying books! 

The launch ended up standing room only as friends, family, friends of friends, and teachers from my past and present all mingled in a wonderful crowd. The cookies and the 1960s candy disappeared (as did the wine) and everyone had a terrific time!



The beach pail with the big blue bow to the right of the picture below was the door prize and Larry Rule's name was drawn as the winner. I think he'll be passing the glitter flip flops and pink sunglasses on...

I'm grateful for all of the encouragement and support I've received from you, my readers, as well as my family and friends. Thank you.

If you missed the launch party, there are still several opportunities to join the Florida fun. I have several public speaking engagements lined up over the next few months and will share them here as the dates get closer. If you've enjoyed my little stories of Florida past, I hope to meet you at one of the events. If you've read the book, I'd greatly appreciate if you'd mosey on over to Amazon.com and leave a review.

Now that the hoopla is over, it's back to business. I'll be posting more often. If you have anything about South Florida you'd like me to research and write about, please let me know by commenting.

Who knows? Your story could end up in the next book!

Friendship and How to Live Your Dream

Becky Young, Author, Debbie Huffman, Mimi Waddell

On the 17th of January, amazing things happened. 

The roots of that evening started way back in 1975. Yep. Back in the days of the BeeGees and disco dancing. I was in high school then and immersed in music. My teenage life at North Shore High School in West Palm Beach revolved around the choir and a smaller group called "The Choraleers."

It was in my sophomore year that a young man joined the choir. Normally, students had to spend a year in choir to be eligible to try out for Choraleers, a smaller group of more advanced singers who performed while dancing. We had to sight read the music, too. This kid went straight into Choraleers. He had so much talent bursting out of his 14-year old body that there was no stopping him. Our director, Sandy Connelly, liked to end our concerts with "I Believe in Music"--an appropriate song for students who breathed melody and talked in harmony. The newest member was invited out front to do the improvisation called for at the end. He'd dance and sing like his feet were on fire. Gives me goosebumps to remember even now, almost forty years later.

Flash forward to 2014. Now known as Kye Brackett, the remarkable kid we once knew has grown into a self-assured entertainer who has been performing professionally for decades. Who does he perform with these days? Barry Manilow. The man who wrote the musical score for our lives--a living legend. When a concert was scheduled in Sunrise in South Florida, the phone lines and facebook heated up. It was an opportunity to see Kye perform on stage with someone we all idolized.

On the 17th, we headed down to the BB&T center. There were seven of us sitting together, but we knew there were others spread out in the darkness throughout the huge audience.

The show was everything we could have hoped for, and more. Manilow's voice was just as we remembered. I closed my eyes from time to time and just listened to the beautiful words and even got tears in my eyes watching Kye perform. It's an odd feeling to see someone you performed with once upon a time succeed beyond teenage hopes and dreams. Every time Kye showed up on the jumbotrons set up on either side of the stage, we turned to each other and yelled (it was loud in there) "Look! It's Kye!" We jumped to our feet and sang along to those beautiful songs.

When the concert ended, we met with all of the other North Shore alumnae at the edge of the stage. When Kye came out from behind the curtains, there were hugs and teary eyes all around. He hurried all 17 of us around the corner. We thought we were getting out of the way of the stagehands, but Kye had a bigger surprise in store. He had arranged for us to meet and have our picture taken with Barry Manilow! The evening became surreal as we grouped together for the photo. It was a once in a lifetime moment. 

In the days since, photos and postings have flown on facebook. One of the best posts I've seen was one by Allan Hendricks, a former Choraleer and now a successful landscape architect. Allan posted, "Take what you will from this but it's lifted me up. I had the chance to see some old high school friends Friday. They are still the rock star people I knew back then. Smart, funny, easy going, talented, happy, successful, generous, charming, handsome, beautiful people. Young people, choose your friends wisely. Feeling blessed."

Allan's right. The people you chose as friends all through your life are the people who define who you become. Choose the ones who push you to be bigger and better than you think you can be. The ones who give you no slack and demand that you live up to potential are the ones you want in your life. They're the ones you remember long after life scatters everyone in different directions.

And yes, amazing things happened on the 17th. We saw someone we first met as a very young man living his dream--and ours, too. I'm so glad we were there to encourage him way back in the 70s and so glad that we were there to celebrate with him as he danced among the stars.

(c) 2014, Ruth Hartman Berge

North Shore High School 2013

     There was an impromptu mini-reunion of North Shore High School graduates recently. We're an anchorless group of people inasmuch as our high school was torn down to make way for the new Bak Middle School of the Performing Arts in West Palm Beach. Several of us also attended North Palm Beach Elementary--also recently demolished.
     We met at a restaurant along the water in North Palm Beach. Memories flew around the table and laughter was fierce as teenage mis-deeds were recounted. Who knew shooting a flaming arrow at a balloon of gas could cause a problem? And the imaginative uses of Ex-lax? And what happens to a boat when no one's steering? I had no idea...
     While it was a small group of ten plus two wonderfully patient spouses who were able to make it due to the short notice and spontaneity of the event, I'm so glad I went.
     There's something so inherently right about touching base with friends who knew you when--those people who knew you when you were still trying to figure out who you were and what you were going to do with your life. One of the men present was a playmate of mine from high chair days--our mothers were friends. Another, I started kindergarten with and he was among those marching to Pomp and Circumstance with me in 1977.
     In this season of graduations, it seems fitting that some of us who once graced the halls of North Shore met again, shared pictures of spouses and children, and spoke of accomplishments and memories. And laughed until we cried.
     Like children on a playground who run back to Mom sitting on the park bench for a quick hug of reassurance before tackling the mighty Jungle Gym, from time to time over the years I think most people seem to need to run back to those who knew us best and longest for our own dose of reassurance. The confirmation of our worth as human beings that only old, dear friends can give pushes us to set sail again to tackle the lives we've created.
     For the graduates of 2013, I hope that when you sit down to a table of your fellow graduates sometime in the far-off future, the laughter is fierce, memories fly fast and furious, and the hugs of your friends as you say good-night sends you back out into the world with the same intensity and passion that you experience this year as you graduate with your youth, your passion for life and your courage to conquer the world.

   

How Did That Street Get THAT Name?

Toney Penna

            Florida has always been a magnet for golfers. The mild year-round weather coupled with beautifully designed courses has been bringing them in for decades. The Breakers Hotel claims to have built the first eighteen hole golf course in Florida. According to Golf.com, the Breakers links opened in 1896.

            Quite a bit north of the Breakers, there’s a little road in Jupiter named “Toney Penna.” Not everyone knows who Toney Penna was or how he ended up with a street in Jupiter named after him. I’ve been told bits and pieces of the Toney Penna story by my parents, but this month, I decided to learn more.

Toney Penna, who became a well-known golfer beginning with his 1937 win of the Pennsylvania Open Championship,  moved to Delray Beach in 1946. The Pennas moved right next door to my Aunt Eleanor’s house along the Intracoastal Waterway, a few blocks from my grandparents’ house on N.E. 7^th Avenue. Penna’s son, Jerry, was a year or so younger than my father. I’ve been told that Jerry, Dad and my Uncle Warren ended up getting into mischief together.  There’s a hush-hush tale about an abandoned building, the three boys and police… but that’s a story for another time.

            Penna used to take a small duffel bag filled to the brim with golf balls to a field to practice his drives. After Penna dumped out the golf balls, Dad and Warren would take the empty bag far down the field and chase after balls, gradually filling the bag back up. I’d heard that Dad caddied for him once upon a time, too.

As a local celebrity, Penna lived peacefully along the water in Delray, but it seems he had some famous friends. He played golf often with Perry Como who had a house along the Jupiter Inlet. Back in Delray Beach, Penna’s visitors caused quite the sensation.  According to Dad, Hollywood luminaries showed up at Penna’s house from time to time--Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis among them. Wouldn’t you have loved to sit in on that party?

            So how did a street in Jupiter, forty-five minutes away from Delray, end up named Toney Penna? Penna worked as a representative for MacGregor Golf Company designing clubs until 1967. It was the early 1970s when he went out on his own, opening a little facility where he designed and manufactured golf clubs. The building is still there, located on the south side of Toney Penna Drive, just east of Military Trail, but it’s been renovated and its now impossible to tell that once upon a time golfing royalty worked there.

If you’d like to get your hands on a Toney Penna club, be prepared to pay. The MacGregor Toney Penna Clubs are extremely rare collectibles. A collector’s guide on E-bay says, “An all original, excellent condition set of WWs (white woods) should be worth $1000 or more.” And as for irons, the Penna VIP irons (1963-1967) are considered one of those items so rare, it’s hard to set a value.

I’m sure that when Dad and Warren were cutting through Aunt Eleanor’s hedge to get Jerry for yet another adventure, Dad had no idea that Jerry’s dad, and later Jerry, would make golf clubs so well designed that devoted golfers still search for and collect them.

Accomplishments worthy of having a street named after him, I think.

This article first appeared in my column with Seabreeze Publications, Inc., "The Florida You Don't Know."