9/15/25 I graduated from Littlestown High School in 1965. I packed up my warm weather clothing and headed to Michigan as a college freshman. I played college football and baseball and was a member of the Alpha Tau Omega fraternity. I graduated in 1969 with a Bachelor of Arts degree in German, with an English minor along with some sort of certification specializing in Latin.  I was a college graduate and I had the piece of paper to prove it, but I didn’t have a job. I was visiting my parents in Littlestown when my dear mother suggested I contact the Carroll County School System to maybe, just maybe find a job as a school teacher. I balked at her suggestion but she said “it won’t hurt to try.” I called and spoke with the director of personnel, a fine gentleman. He told me there were a few teaching positions available and then he asked about my degree. I told him I had a degree in German. Upon hearing this, he screamed “What did you say”? I told him I had a degree in German and he broke into a loud, continuous, maniacal uproar of laughter. He continued laughing for at least five minutes and he finally stopped and apologized for his behavior. He told me that the entire Carroll County School System had but one German teacher, that being at South Carroll High School in Sykesville. Then he said, “He resigned this morning, do you want a job”! I quickly responded “Yes, I do”! He later stated that South Carroll was considering a beginning program in Latin but they had yet to find an instructor.  I told him of my college accreditation in Latin, he laughed and asked me how soon could I be at his office. So, it worked out for me. I was a high school teacher, thanks Mom!

9/8/25 On Tuesday, September 11, 2001 I was on vacation visiting one of our daughters in San Antonio, Texas. While we were having our breakfast, another of our daughters called, telling us to turn on our television. We, like millions of other horrified Americans watched the screen as the second plane flew into the second tower. Our eyes were fixed in disbelief as we couldn’t believe what we were seeing. I said to my daughter, almost right away, that she would be getting another telephone call, and at that moment, it rang and the call was for me.

At the time I was employed by the Maryland State Police, assigned as the assistant barrack commander of the Golden Ring Barrack in Baltimore County. The barrack commander told me that my vacation was cancelled and that I was to return to duty as soon as possible.
Breakfast was over – – who could eat after seeing this on live television? I began to pack almost immediately, leaving the television on only to learn of the other attacks on the Pentagon and the plane crash in Pennsylvania. I continued to pack and get organized for my trip back to my residence in Parkville, Maryland. I was finished packing, ready to return home, only to learn that all airports across the country were being shut down. Now what? How am I supposed to get back to Maryland? After a few minutes I realized the only way I could get back home was to drive. You do what you gotta do! Ok, fine, I’ll just rent a car, it will take longer but it was my only option. I began calling every rent-a-car agency I could find in the Yellow Pages, but there were no rentals available – – many people found themselves in the same predicament. But, I finally found a vehicle rental agency that told me there were no available vehicles, but there was a vehicle expected to be returned to their company the next morning. I asked that a hold be placed on that vehicle because I simply had to leave Texas and get home. I had a car to drive home.
The next morning I was waiting for the rental agency to open. I grabbed my luggage, hugged and kissed the kids and grandkids and my journey began. I could not be choosy as, at that time, I just wanted a vehicle, and I got it! The only vehicle available was a 2000 Kia! Now, I am 6’4″ tall and weigh 280. The Kia is the size of a foot-long hotdog. But I didn’t care. I drove from San Antonio to Montgomery, Alabama, stopping only for gasoline and drive-thru fast food restaurants and restrooms. I could take no more, I had to get off the road. I spent the night at a motel in Montgomery, asking for a 5:00 AM wake-up call. I ate a quick breakfast at a Waffle Hut and I was back on the road. The drive was boring but easy as there was hardly any traffic on the highways, the AM/FM radio stations were filled with recaps of the attacks. I had the pleasure of meeting state troopers from Alabama, Georgia, and North Carolina because of my speed. I showed them my badge and explained my situation, so we shook hands and wished each other well. Finally, I pulled into my driveway in Parkville at 8:30 that evening. I reported for duty the next morning.

5/4/24  Do you remember where you were and what you were doing on November 22, 1963 and what about September 11, 2001? Surely these two days will be ingrained into our minds forever. But where were you, what were you doing on May 4, 1970? It was a Monday, a little past twelve-thirty. I was teaching a German class at South Carroll High School, in Sykesville, Carroll County. The news hit the TV and radio stations – – – – calling the event “The Kent State Massacre.” Four Kent State University students were killed and nine others were wounded when members of the Ohio National Guard opened fire during a student rally opposing our involvement in the Vietnam War, the National Guard’s presence on their campus and the military draft.  Neil Young of the folk-rock singing group, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young wrote a protest song in reaction to the Kent State shootings. You can hear the song this Saturday on Nick Brady’s Brady Brunch, only on Cool Oldies 1450THU and WTHURADIO.COM

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This week on the Brady Brunch, Jaunary 27, I would like to focus on the top hits of the year, 1962. There was not one single song that was the top song according to the Billboard charts. Actually, there were three songs, all of which held the top spot for five weeks each and two of the songs were performed by the same artist

The next week the Brady Brunch is going to focus on “the day the music died”, conveniently for me the day, February 3 falls on the Saturday of the Brady Brunch..