How Bad Are The Philadelphia Eagles?

One local sports bar was so upset they hung a football in effigy.

Note to the Governor of New Jersey:"Effigy" is NOT a small township in South Jersey.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Missile Command South Jersey Style

Most of us kids from the 1950's and 1960's are more than familiar with the "Cold War".

We remember fallout shelters and air raid drills as a part of our school days. In my case, the air raid drills had stopped by the time I left elementary school.

I guess they figured by the time we reached middle school we would already know that an atomic bomb blast would obliterate the built at "lowest bid" schools to smithereens.

However, there was a lot more to the Cold War here in South Jersey then we realized.

Once upon a time there was a Nike Missile Command and Control facility at a local Army installation called Camp Pedricktown.

Here's a brief history of the Camp from the U.S. government's Base Realignment and Closure program:

"Installation History and Mission Camp Pedricktown, located in northwestern Oldmans Township, Salem County, New Jersey, is a U.S. Government property selected for partial closure by the BRAC 95 Commission. The site is located about 50 miles southwest of Trenton, New Jersey. Camp Pedricktown consists of approximately 85 acres and 260,000 square feet of facilities. The site is part of the Sievers-Sandberg U.S. Army Reserve Center (USARC). The site and the surrounding lands were locally-owned farms prior to World War I.

In 1918, the Camp Pedricktown site was acquired by the U.S. Army and used to establish the Delaware Ordnance Depot. The depot remained in operation until 1958 as the final assembly and storage point for munitions prior to off-site shipment. The site also served as a back-up storage facility for the Picatinny and Frankford Arsenals and the Aberdeen Proving Grounds.

From 1960 until 1965, Camp Pedricktown served as the headquarters for the 42nd and 43rd Artillery that commanded the Nike missile sites in the 27 December 01 iii Revision 9 Philadelphia area. Between 1965 and 1969, a total of 42 of the installation’s facilities were turned over to the Salem County Technical Institute. The Salem County Technical Institute used the facilities until the school was displaced by the arrival of the 21st Corps, 79th Army Reserve Command (ARCOM) in the late 1960s.

In 1974, the 21st Corps was replaced by the 78th Division of the Army Reserve. An eastern portion of the original installation is currently owned by Salem County Community College and used for recreational purposes. The 1995 BRAC Commission recommended that Camp Pedricktown be closed, except for a Reserve Enclave to serve the Sievers-Sandberg USARC, providing essential facilities, and other areas required for Reserve Component training.

On September 30, 1997 Camp Pedricktown was closed, except for a 39-acre Reserve Enclave. The closure of Camp Pedricktown will save base operation and maintenance funds, and provide reuse opportunities for approximately 46 acres of the 85-acre site. The Camp Pedricktown site was transferred from the Defense Supply Agency to Fort Dix in July 1962.

At this time the BRAC parcel is no longer used for any military related activities. The Reserve enclave is used by medical units to support reserve missions and for training, vehicle storage, and repair. During two weeks of each year, and for two days each month, the Reserve Enclave is heavily populated by military personnel who conduct military exercises in the immediate vicinity."

Since I was in the neighborhood, I decided to drop by the old Camp Pedricktown and see what was what.


It doesn't take long for neglected property to grow over.


Then again, with a little love and care they look almost new. This building is located just up the road a piece from the first photo.


Now standing empty, this building still shows signs of recent use.


As referenced in the BRAC report, this was used as headquarters for a hospital unit and a transportation unit.


Further south on the main road, the commander's office stands empty save for a multitude of wasps.


Some of the "Family Housing" still remains.


When's the last time you saw a pressed sign?


Looking down the row of long vacant homes.


A good view of one of the duplexes.


Interestingly, only one of the duplexes had this brick breezeway.


Looking north down the main road.


Looking south down the main road towards the administration buildings and housing.


Looking west towards the back of the Camp. Some of the old buildings are being reused by tenants. The base has been converted to an industrial park.

Notice the lump in the road. You'll be seeing it again.


The "heart" of the old Camp, the unused and forlorn flagpole.


The faceless marker at the base of the flagpole.



Baseball fields and tennis courts, last used by the local community college, are slowly being reclaimed by weeds.

Because of time limits I had to wrap up my little tour.

I'll be doing some research in the next weeks. I want to see if the old "Missile Command" building is still standing. I also want to see if I can get inside safely to take some photos.

Splitty's going to love that mission.

In the meantime, remember I told you to remember that lump in the road?


Remember kids, always look both ways before you cross the street.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Some Day, Too Soon, Goodbye........

Life in bed sometimes almost isn't.

She's respected as the matriarch.

A title she's surely earned.

Once upon a time she was the young, agile, and excited "new kid" in her family.

Now she's mostly resigned to the fact that her life revolves more and more around her bed.

Up to a few years ago she could run like the wind. She could do so with grace and ease.

Today, walking for her is a painful chore.

Stairs were the enemy for a while, but eventually the stairs and time won out on her.

She has to be carried in and out of the house.

Acceptance of her many physical shortcomings has spared her the overwhelming stress most would feel at this point in their lives.

Maybe she could fight it, but why? Her energy is better spent enjoying what she can in a day.

She never leaves the kitchen while I'm cooking. She doesn't have to. It's a great deal of entertainment for her. She never gets in the way or interferes.

She just watches me and enjoys the peace.

Grace can be found in many forms if God gives you the gift to understand what you see around you.

By watching her, she teaches me every day about the things I can expect when I too get older. I hope I can learn how to handle it as well as she does.

I hope someday I'll have the serenity she seems to enjoy.

Someday soon, all too soon, we'll have to say goodbye to one another.

Nature's course doesn't change for anybody or anything.

Today, I just want to thank her for the lessons learned in her presence.


And maybe just scratch her behind the ears a time or two.

At 14+ years, Lilly has earned that.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Dogs Vs. String Art

Who knew being tethered could be so much fun?


One of "Rhondo the Wonder Idiot" and Butter's early attempts. Note the classic use of the bird bath.


"Fig Tree With a Gas Grill Twist".


Butter inspects her handiwork.


Rhondo, ever the minimalist, with his "Gas Grill At A 90".


Rhondo exploring minimalism even further came back with "Bird Bath Half Nelson".


Rhondo, showing once again why he's the hottest thing in "Dog Art" since Lassie went through a wheat thresher, brought out "Gas Grill Tourniquet".

New works are on the way even as we speak.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Splitty Vs. The Summer Reading Program

I'm going to have to be a little more careful when it comes to Splitty's Summer adventures.

Especially when it comes to literature.

Recently, Splitty finished reading a book of legends.

He was intrigued in particular by the legend of William Tell.

The other day at the farm, after a few cold beers, Splitty wondered if there was a modern day marksman whose skills were as honed as Mr. Tell's.

I mentioned that Q was an outstanding target shooter.

Splitty, his courage fortified by a six pack, demanded to see proof.

I reminded Splitty that most alcohol based decisions end in disaster.

Especially his.

Splitty would have none of that.

He had one beer left and an idea on how to open it.

This is why alcohol and literature are a bad mix.


Splitty ran down to the target and stood in front of the bulls eye.

The boy's got some mad posture for being so drunk.

I asked Splitty if he'd care for a blindfold.

Splitty thought that might be a good idea. Nobody wants to see themselves get shot.


Splitty was much more relaxed after that.

Splitty then requested his last beer.


Splitty carefully balanced it on his head.


Q took careful aim.


Q fired the gun.

Q then quietly said, "Oops. My bad."


I quietly began to think of an alibi for Q.

Splitty dropped faster than an Enron 401k plan.


Q, seemingly puzzled as to why he hit Splitty, blamed it on the scope.

I slowly walked downrange to assess the damage.

It wasn't good.


Splitty had wet himself.

Fortunately, only Splitty's pride was injured.

Q had hit the can dead center. Just like he had planned.

Splitty regained consciousness shortly thereafter.

He went inside to clean up a bit.


Splitty thanked Q for the demonstration in marksmanship and for not killing him.

Having had enough excitement for one day, Splitty and I jumped into the truck and headed home.

Splitty spent the rest of the night quietly reading some Mark Twain stories.

I wonder what he's going to do with that raft he's building this morning?

Next time we explore unique ways to get rid of old #10 jugs of mayo......


No chance of getting salmonella from this stuff now.

But that's a story for another time.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Splitty Goes Sightseeing

One thing is for certain when it comes to Splitty the Maul. He's not shy about getting out and seeing the world.

Last year we passed by the Finns Point Lighthouse while enroute to another South Jersey historical site.

Splitty is a huge fan of lighthouses.

It was blazing hot. Fortunately I have a really cold air conditioning system in the AirTrafficMobile and mauls are generally immune to the effects of heat.

It's a distinct advantage of being forged I suppose.

Heat be damned, we headed out to the lighthouse.


The Finns Point Rear Range Light.

"What's a range light?", you ask?

It is a set of lights that provide visual navigation signals to ships operating in bodies of water. For those readers who are pilots, they are extremely similar to VASI lights. The front light was lower than the back light. Depending on the alignment of the lights, you would know if you were centered in, left, or right of the channel.

Here's a diagram of how they worked:



Like a standard lighthouse, it was equipped with a Fresnel lens. Unlike a standard lighthouse the light did not rotate. The beacon was fixed and projected out a single pane of glass.


See? Only one pane of glass.

Splitty was eager to get inside and climb the stairs.


Sadly, this was as close as Splitty could get.

The lighthouse is currently not open for the public to enter.


The lighthouse was constructed in Buffalo, NY in 1876. It was transported to Pennsville, NJ and began operating in 1877.


Having been restricted from entering the lighthouse, Splitty ran over to the information board to read up on the history of the lighthouse.

Splitty is an avid reader.

He thought it would be a good idea to take pictures of the brochures.

I'm not above taking advice from Splitty.









It was a nice visit. Splitty had a good time despite not being able to get inside the structure.

I had a good time because I used to ride my bicycle past here often as a child.

It was nice to see the lighthouse still in good repair. It was almost lost to history. Fortunately some local residents banded together to save the lighthouse. It was restored in 1983.

I was heading back to the AirTrafficMobile when Splitty got my attention.

He wanted to do a public service announcement.

Who am I to deny a well meaning hand tool the opportunity to do so?


Remember kids, Splitty the Maul says, "Kids, don't smoke next to fuel storage tanks!"

Thanks Splitty.

We'll work on the whole "Kids, don't smoke." thingy at a later time.

Tune in next time, when we hear Rhondo the Wonder Idiot say:


"Mike, do you think I'm going to need these nuts?"

I didn't have the heart to tell him he's going to be "the end of the line".

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Father's Day Remembrances: There Was A Time When..

I got up early yesterday.

As you all know it was Father's Day yesterday. I wanted to go visit my Dad.

For those unaware, my father passed on in early 1980. He was a week short of his 59th birthday, I was almost a month past my 19th birthday.

I set out about 10:30 am for the Veteran's Cemetery.

Not surprisingly, it was oppressively hot and humid when I arrived there. The weather was a far cry from the blustery, cold day in February when we buried his mortal remains.

Not surprisingly too, the cemetery is much larger than it was and much more crowded.

What was surprising was the number of other sons/brothers/wives/daughters visiting there for the same reason as I.

It was nice to see. There have been many times I was the only living soul out there.

I said a quick prayer and tended to Dad's grave. They do a pretty good job out there, but a little extra clean up never hurts.

Then, I took the time to thank him once again for everything he did for my Mother, my brothers, and myself.

I stayed a few more minutes talking to him. Hopefully I'm not the only person who does this, but if I am, that's okay too.

As I was driving away, my mind drifted off thinking about ice cream. Dad loved ice cream. Not just any ice cream, really good ice cream. As a treat in the Summer, Dad would sometimes pile us all into the station wagon and take us to Sharptown.

Sharptown, New Jersey was home to two thriving businesses. One was Cowtown, home of a weekly flea market, livestock auction, produce sales, and the long running Cowtown Rodeo.

The other business was Richman's Ice Cream.

Founded in 1894, it was well established by the time our clan moved to South Jersey in 1964. The building they were located in was built in 1947. It was, and still is, a classic Art Deco design building.

It was a multipurpose building housing an ice cream factory, a restaurant, and walk up ice cream stand. It was located on Rte. 40 which made it a prime stop on the way to Atlantic City.

Most of the time we would go to the walk up windows and order our treats. There were so many different flavors to choose from. Peach ice cream was my flavor of choice.

Like so many other small businesses, the move to national brands took its toll. They stopped making ice cream at the plant in 1994. Four of the five restaurants they once owned were closed leaving only the original. By October of 2009, the failing economy forced the owners to close up shop for good.

A company in Philadelphia owns the rights to the name now.

I stopped by the old factory yesterday to take some pictures.


The facade.


There used to be a large lit sign. At the end, this is what they had by the road.


Taken through one of the restaurant windows.


Looking back towards the front entrance. There used to be a large fiberglass Holstein cow over the door. It was sold at auction.


The main entrance to the restaurant/offices.


"Country Fresh" when that actually meant something. Note the original stainless steel doors inside.


The walk up windows. The old awning couldn't deal with the heavy snows in February.



Some of the many flavors available.


A look inside the walk up windows.

With the heat approaching the mid 90's and no ice cream in sight, I left for home.

The number of independent ice cream stands gets fewer and fewer every year.

Especially the ones that make their own.

Farell's, Friendly's, and Dairy Queen are around. Every one of those I've ever been in felt hollow. They portray the old times, but in a clean corporate way.

It just doesn't feel or taste the same.

I think I'll have an ice cream sandwich for lunch. That'll cheer me up.

Tomorrow, Splitty the Maul goes touristing.

Tune in again later in the week when we hear "Rhondo the Wonder Idiot" say:


"Look Mike, I can tie my own leash!"

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.