Jim Thorpe is Buried 15 Miles East of My Hometown - Tamaqua PA

From the Washington Post today.

PRAGUE, Okla. — Funerals, like weddings, can be messy family affairs. Not everything goes according to plan. Emotions run high. Even pleasant people can be tense.Few people who met Patsy Thorpe — third and most difficult spouse of Jim Thorpe, that primordial American athlete — accused her of being pleasant, in particular Thorpe’s children from previous marriages.So when she pulled up to her husband’s in-progress Native American funeral service at a farm near here on the night of April 12, 1953, with a hearse and a highway patrolman in tow, everybody knew something bad was about to happen.What transpired, however, is perhaps unmatched in the history of American funeral proceedings.She barged into the service and announced that her dead husband was “too cold.”She ordered the coffin loaded into the hearse, then drove away, taillights disappearing into the darkness.Over the next several months, she shopped the body around, looking for a memorial for him and cash for her. After alienating almost everyone, she wound up 1,340 miles away in the Poconos of Pennsylvania, asking two tiny boroughs straddling a bend in the Lehigh River — Mauch Chunk and East Mauch Chunk — to unite under the name “Jim Thorpe” in exchange for his corpse.It was macabre, it was bizarre, but the Chunks, once vacation getaways for U.S. presidents and the East Coast smart set, were desperate. Their coal-based fortunes had devolved into mid-century squalor. Civic leaders hoped the name change and a memorial might be their ticket back to prosperity.With a parade, tooting horns and a marching band, they signed the deal, and today Jim Thorpe lies in a red marble mausoleum in Jim Thorpe, Pa.This might be the end of the story, except for the fact that the four sons of Jim Thorpe never forgave and they never forgot.They have asked, pleaded and two years ago sued in federal court to force the borough to right their stepmother’s wrong. They want to bury their father where he wanted: in or near the Thorpe family plot on the Great Plains of rural Oklahoma, about a mile from where he was born.It is, to them and the Sac and Fox Nation, a fundamental human right for Native Americans to bury their people where they wish them to be buried.Jim Thorpe, Pa., has politely but steadfastly refused to return the body.“We lived up to our end of the bargain,” says Michael Sofranko, the mayor. “That’s about as American as you can get.”As the years have passed and the shadows have lengthened, the sons’ quest has taken on a Homeric aura, as if lifted from the pages of “The Odyssey.” It has lasted 59 years, through 11 presidential administrations, Vietnam, Watergate, the civil rights movement, Reaganism, the collapse of the Soviet empire, Nelson Mandela and the end of apartheid, the birth of the Internet and the entire life span of Barack Obama.Their lawsuit may have, at last, brought them to the brink of victory.“I’ve got nothing against the town,” said Richard Thorpe, one of two surviving Thorpe children. He is sitting in a truck stop diner in Waurika, Okla., on a recent Sunday afternoon. He’s a thin, wiry man, sporting a Chevy gimme cap, an NFL Hall of Fame jacket and a countenance that shows all of his 79 years.Outside, there is brilliant sunshine, a hard wind and miles and miles and miles of rolling prairie. This time of year, it’s all brown: brown grass, brown trees, brown dust blown up by the tractor-trailers breezing by on Highway 70.“But we want Dad back here in Indian Country. We want to finish that funeral.”* * *One hundred years ago, the Sac and Fox athlete Wa-tha-sko-huk, a.k.a. Light After the Lightning, a.k.a. Jacobus Franciscus Thorpe, became an American Colossus. He has stood astride that pedestal ever since — the most famous Native American of the 20th century, perhaps the greatest athlete the continent has ever produced. At this remove, he almost seems more akin to the mythical John Henry and Paul Bunyan than contemporaries Babe Ruth and Bronko Nagurski.In the 1912 Olympics in Stockholm, he won the decathlon and the pentathlon, a feat never duplicated. His scores in the combined 15 events were off the charts. He set records that took decades to break.Sweden’s King Gustav V presented him the gold medals and said, in awe, “You, sir, are the most wonderful athlete in the world.”People tend to splutter when trying to describe Thorpe’s athletic ability. It’s a little like trying to quantify Beethoven’s musical genius or Leonardo da Vinci’s artistic skill. But let’s look at one small example, Thorpe’s performance in the final of the decathlon’s 10 events, the 1,500 meters.His winning time was 4:40, which is running 12 miles an hour for five minutes — try it on your treadmill — but let’s talk to the world’s current greatest athlete, Bryan Clay, to put that in an athlete’s perspective.Clay won the gold medal in the decathlon in the 2008 Olympics and the silver in 2004. He is primed to go again this summer in London. Texas-born, Hawaii-raised, Clay is a monster, a freak, an athletic marvel.He trains six to eight hours a day with the most sophisticated equipment, coaches and dietary nourishment science can offer. The 1,500 meters isn’t his best event, he says, and other decathletes have run it much faster. “It’s a beast, it’s brutal, it comes after nine other events in two days.”But if Bryan Clay ran his all-time best, at the peak of his world-champion powers, he would beat Thorpe by one second.It’s fair to note here that Thorpe was running in mismatched shoes (see cover photo). Someone had taken his just before the competition, and he had to hustle up two different shoes to make an ungainly pair.Yet, this is only a fraction of his legend.Standing 5-foot-11 and weighing about 185, he played college football at the Carlisle Indian Industrial School in Pennsylvania. He was by far the nation’s best player and led his team to unofficial national titles.A halfback, he would amuse himself by calling out to the defense where he was going to run, then plow over the massed defenders anyway. During halftimes, he sometimes entertained crowds by drop-kicking a football 50 yards over one goal post, then turning around and drop-kicking another 50 yards over the opposite goal post.He was the star who almost single-handedly created professional football. He was the first president of what became the National Football League. (The Pro Football Hall of Fame is in Canton, Ohio, because of Thorpe’s championship career with the Canton Bulldogs.)During this period, he played pro baseball for six years.In 1950, sportswriters overwhelmingly named him the nation’s greatest athlete of the half-century. In second place — drawing barely a third of -Thorpe’s first-place votes — was Babe Ruth.Pause right there. More than 300 sportswriters, many of whom would have seen both men perform, held that Babe Ruth — the Bambino, the Sultan of Swat, the man who hit more home runs than some teams in some years, the greatest baseball player in history — drew 86 first-place votes. Thorpe got 252.“Thorpe,” Clay says, “did things that were just insane.”* * *The man’s personal life was mortal, messy and sad.Born on the remote Sac and Fox reservation in 1887 (often incorrectly reported as 1888), three years before the massacre at Wounded Knee put a bloody end to the Indian wars, he was five-eighths Indian and endured a lifetime of racist slights and insults.His twin brother died when he was 9. His mother died when he was 14. His father died when he was 16.He was stripped of his Olympic medals in 1913 for having played semi-pro baseball before the 1912 Games, a ticky-tack violation of his amateur status. (The medals were posthumously returned in 1982.)Pro football paid a pittance, so he never accrued much wealth. When he did make money, he shared it with friends or squandered it. His first-born child, Jim Jr., died in his arms at 3, a blow friends said hobbled him for the rest of his life. He divorced, remarried, divorced and remarried. Hollywood god Burt Lancaster played him in a biopic, but even that did not revive his fortunes.Thorpe preferred to listen than talk. He was often away from his seven later-born children and distant even when present. He eventually drank to stunning excess (Thunderbird wine), failed to plan for the future and moved constantly, even after he retired from sports. He bounced from Oklahoma to New York to California to Michigan to Florida to Nevada and stops in between. He tried everything: football coach, security guard, ditch digger, house painter, car salesman, bar manager, Hollywood bit actor and public speaker.His health worsened, his third marriage deteriorated. He was so itinerant at the end that he preferred living in a house trailer so he could move when the mood struck. He died of a heart attack in his trailer in Lomita, Calif., on March 28, 1953, poor if not impoverished.He was 65, fat, bloated and misshapen. Thorpe biographer Kate Buford writes that Patsy left the body in the trailer overnight. Friends transported him to a morgue, then arranged (and paid for) the trip back home to Oklahoma.Buford spent eight years working on her seminal biography, “Native American Son,” published in 2010. She says she was moved by Thorpe’s generosity, his warmth, his genuine nature and his refusal to act like the egotistical, self-entitled athletes of the modern era.“He wasn’t a complicated man,” she says, “but what happened to him was.”Thorpe had three daughters from his first marriage, Charlotte, Grace and Gail; and four sons from his second, Carl, Bill, Richard and Jack.Though Patsy was technically in charge, the entire family voted to take him home for burial, as was his wish. The plan was that he would be given a Sac and Fox traditional rite, then a Catholic Mass, then be held in a mausoleum until the state of Oklahoma could finalize plans for a memorial. Gov. Johnston Murray set up a memorial commission.“Patsy was all on board with it at the time,” says Bill Thorpe, now 83 and a retired aircraft factory worker in Arlington, Tex.The site of the memorial wasn’t determined, but the burial would likely be in the family plot in the Garden Grove Cemetery, about a mile from the old homeplace, surrounded by prairie and cow pastures. Thorpe’s father, Hiram, lay in Row 2, near the shade of an overhanging tree. Thorpe’s twin, Charlie, lay beneath a small stone obelisk reading “SON.” Sister Mary was buried a few feet away.To Jim Thorpe’s children, this was their father’s native earth. He was as much a part of the place as rainwater. He was no international icon. He was just Dad.Most of them were sent to Indian boarding schools, as was common at the time. But during his second marriage, when the boys were in California, Thorpe would roughhouse with them. “He would get under our bed and shake it, yelling, ‘Earthquake!’ Earthquake!’ ” Bill remembers, laughing. Thorpe took the boys hunting. He played catch in the yard. He got them bit parts in the movies he acted in, introducing them to Tom Mix and other celebrities.The daughters stayed with their mother after the first divorce. “When I saw my father, it was a joyous moment and one that sufficed until the next meeting,” Charlotte told Bob Wheeler, author of “Jim Thorpe: World’s Greatest Athlete.”* * *Once the coffin was back home, friends and family gathered in the evening for the Sac and Fox service. The Daily Oklahoman reported that cooking pots bubbled with “chicken, beef, deer meat, and corn.”Thomas Brown, the tribal member officiating at the ceremony, knelt and prayed to the Great Spirit over a sacred fire a few feet from the coffin, tossing in flecks of tobacco. Friends told stories of the old days. The rite was to last until dawn, when Thorpe’s body would be carried through a door facing west, thus freeing his soul to the afterlife.It was about 9 p.m. when Patsy burst in. She was white and didn’t care for her late husband’s Native American roots, Buford and other biographers have noted.“We were just so astonished when she came in that nobody really said anything,” Bill remembers.The children, sons and daughters alike, were mortified. To the tribe, removing the body was not only a cultural insult and an act of sacrilege, it also left Thorpe’s soul adrift.There is no theology to explain exactly where his soul is now, says Henrietta Massey, an esteemed elder member of the tribe who was at the funeral. “Nothing like it had ever happened before,” she says, “and hasn’t happened since.”* * *Patsy went ahead with the Catholic service the following morning, then stored the body in a mausoleum, awaiting the state’s memorial. But later that summer, Gov. Murray vetoed the measure, citing budgetary straits.Patsy was, by all accounts, furious. She was adamant her husband would get a fitting memorial (and equally adamant in private that she would be paid in return, many involved in the affair have said).Five months after Thorpe died, Patsy showed up at the mausoleum one night and had Thorpe’s coffin trucked to Tulsa, hoping that city would build a memorial. It turned her down. The children were now so angry that Bill asked the governor to stop her from moving the body again. Murray declined, calling it a family argument.By summer’s end, Patsy was looking for (and alienating) other bidders. Carlisle, Thorpe’s college town, turned her down, because “Pat just wanted too much money,” a city official told Sports Illustrated in 1982.With her options running out, she visited Philadelphia in September. She saw a television report about the Chunks, two tiny boroughs in eastern Pennsylvania trying to shore up finances by getting residents to chip in a “nickel a week.”The boroughs were splintered by ethnic tensions — mostly Irish settlers on one bank of the Lehigh, mostly Germans on the other — and they were economically hamstrung by dual city services.When Patsy showed up a few days after the television report, making her unorthodox pitch, civic boosters thought unification under the Thorpe banner might attract the proposed NFL Hall of Fame, a 500-bed hospital center, a sports stadium and a sporting goods factory.Townspeople went for it 10 to 1.It flopped, badly.Few tourists came. Neither did the Hall of Fame. There was no research hospital, no stadium, no factory. (Patsy, who ended her days caring for elderly invalids, apparently got nothing more than a check for her expenses.)Two angry referendums to repeal the name change in the early 1960s drew about 40 percent of the vote. Vandals once attacked Thorpe’s mausoleum with a hammer. Johnny Otto, a local contractor and county official, was notorious for telling visiting reporters: “All we got was a dead Indian.”But as the 1980s turned into the 1990s, the town of 5,000 began a slow resurgence as a regional tourist destination.“It’s all heritage tourism, mountain biking, white-water rafting,” says John Drury, former head of the local Chamber of Commerce. “It’s certainly not due to the mausoleum.”Thorpe’s three daughters, meanwhile, grew to love the little town, though Charlotte went back and forth on whether her father should be buried there. Grace even helped sanctify the burial spot in a religious rite — putting his long-wandering soul to rest, she said.The mausoleum sits in a tiny park a hundred feet off State Road 903, which winds downhill and into town. The view is of hills in the distance, a vocational school in the background and a neighborhood across the street. The park features two statues of Thorpe, a sculpture garden and landscaped azaleas. The house next door has a handmade sign out front that reads: “Baby Gerbils for Sale.”Sofranko, the mayor, thinks Thorpe is just fine right where he is.A hometown kid in his 40s, Sofranko has a day job on the Mack Truck assembly line at a nearby factory. He settles in for a companionable beer after work at The Inn at Jim Thorpe, the town’s nicest hotel.He politely points out that his borough has done far more than required in the three-page legal contract with Patsy. That some of Thorpe’s children are disgruntled by their stepmother’s burial plans, he says, is probably not unusual in terms of family disputes. It certainly shouldn’t compel a town to give up its namesake.“Bringing Thorpe here, changing our name, all that we’ve invested over the years, that’s part of who we are now,” he says. “He brought a divided town together.”* * *The sons, meanwhile, made pilgrimages es to the memorial after it was built. If the town wanted to call itself Jim Thorpe, they were flattered. But to use his body to do it, they thought, was using his corpse like some sort of mascot.“Dad had never been there in his life,” Richard says.By the late 1960s and early 1970s, Jack, who would become chief of the Sac and Fox Nation, began asking the town to return the body, Bill remembers. “The answer was an emphatic no,” he says.Wheeler, the biographer, says he has interview notes and a letter from Jack Thorpe in July 1982, documenting a trip Jack made to the borough, asking once again for the body.“It went nowhere,” Wheeler says. “He met with numerous people in a conciliatory fashion, not threatening lawsuits.”The borough’s reaction, as quoted in that Sports Illustrated piece: “No way,” said then-mayor Michael Hichok, also one of the town’s barbers. “They can’t take it back.”There was a far darker source of the sons’ outrage than a family spat, however.By the latter half of the 1800s, as the frontier moved west and Native American tribes were relocated and massacred and resettled, whites began to regard them as two-legged curios, a breed about to vanish.As early as 1867, the Army Medical Museum began using native corpses for infectious disease studies. A few years later, the museum was advertising for skulls to enhance its “scientific” study — as if the Choctaws and Apaches and the Cheyenne were prehistoric mastodons.In the following decades, tens of thousands of graves were looted, the bones and relics often shipped off to museums, if not traded on the collectibles market.In 1936, the ancient skeletons of 146 men, women and children were discovered in an Indian burial mound in Salina, Kan. The landowner shellacked the skeletons and displayed them as a roadside attraction for nearly 60 years. In 1989, relic hunters dug up a burial mound on the Slack farm in Kentucky, looting graves that were 500 years old, tossing skeletons to the side.“We’ve been treated as curiosities and specimens rather than as people,” says Joe Watkins, a Choctaw Indian and director of the Native American studies program at the University of Oklahoma.In 1990, Congress enacted the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, a sweeping bid to redress more than 150 years of abuse. It is designed to force museums to return human remains and sacred artifacts to their tribes of origin.Sherry Hutt, national program manager for the act, says museums are not required to file annual reports of returns, so there is no comprehensive number of how many bodies have been transferred. What is known are the cases voluntarily reported: In the 22 years since the law was passed, the remains of 41,000 Native Americans have either been returned to their tribes or have been identified as eligible to be returned.About 119,000 more are either unclaimed or unidentified.* * *The Thorpe sons were intrigued with the sweeping power of the graves protection act. It had been 37 years since their father’s funeral. The law offered them their first legal tool to reclaim the body.The act essentially asks only three questions: Is the entity a museum? Does it have control over the remains? Can those remains be identified as members of a tribe?If so, then federal law mandates they be returned.The statute’s definition of “museum” is extremely broad: any state, city, municipality, school or institution that receives any federal funds, for any purpose, even indirectly.The sons thought they could sue under the act with a slam-dunk case. There was just one problem: their half-sisters.Grace and Gail by now wanted their father to stay put. (Charlotte died in 1998.) Grace was an activist for Native American causes and often came to the town for events related to her father. The sons did not want to file a lawsuit only to have it blow up in public when the sisters disagreed.So, for more than a decade the issue simmered, with neither side able to persuade the other. Then Gail Thorpe died in 2005, and Grace died in 2008.Jack thought the end was in sight at last.“I’ll see it in my lifetime,” he jauntily told AOL FanHouse in 2009, referring to a court victory even before he filed the paperwork. The next summer, in U.S. District Court in Pennsylvania, he filed the suit to bring his father home.He didn’t live to see anything else happen in the case he had worked on for so long. Eight months later, he was dead, too, eaten up by cancer.He now lies beneath the red dirt rectangle of grass and weeds in the family plot where, for 58 years, he had wanted his father to be buried.* * *There were two brothers left alive to continue the fight, Richard and Bill (Carl had died in 1986). The 3,000-member Sac and Fox Nation joined the suit as well, with Principal Chief George Thurman and the tribe’s historic preservation officer, Sandra Massey, at the forefront.They were not surprised that the borough council voted 6 to 0 to fight them.In court papers, William G. Schwab, the borough’s attorney in the case, has argued that the borough is not a museum, that the graves protection act was not intended to cover cases of “modern” people, and, most recently, that Thorpe was a Catholic and Catholicism forbids disinterment.U.S. District Judge A. Richard Caputo has agreed with some of Schwab’s arguments. Caputo has pruned punitive damages from the suit and has knocked out claims that the borough should pay the fees of the sons’ attorneys.But more important, Caputo has ruled that the borough is a museum — the key victory for the plaintiffs. The other two prongs of the act are not in question.His latest ruling, handed down in November, said several of the borough’s objections to returning the remains were “erroneous.” There is a clause in the act, however, stipulating that if the holder of the artifacts has a “right of possession,” the holder may keep them; if the judge holds that Patsy’s contract gave the borough such a right, it will not have to return Thorpe’s body.There is no timetable for a final ruling.* * *A lifetime of struggle. It all comes down to people talking.“This is not a game, it’s not a legal technicality, it’s not something bothering a couple of people,” says Stephen Ward, the Tulsa-based attorney for the sons and the tribe. “It’s viewed as a widespread injustice by a large number of people in the Sac and Fox Nation. ... I don’t think the larger community really understands what it’s like to be a Native American.”Michael Koehler, Charlotte’s son, is 73 and the oldest of the grandchildren. He supports the town.“Aunt Grace has already conducted a Native American burial ritual [at the site], and on that basis we’re convinced he lies in sanctified ground,” he says from his home in Bonita Springs, Fla. “I’m disappointed [the sons] want to do this, to get a crane and destroy a 15-ton mausoleum to pry him out of there.”Rob Wheeler, the son of Thorpe’s biographer, has started a Web site to build support for Thorpe’s body to be returned to Indian Country. He says the site has drawn 3,000 testimonials in five months.Schwab says the borough is dug in. If it loses at the District Court level, he says it will appeal.Sofranko, the mayor, considers all this over his barroom beer. It’s getting on in the evening and it’s snowing, the flakes dusting the village with a hushed, white blanket. The street out front is deserted, dark, the pavement icing up.“You want an issue like this to be put to rest,” he’s saying. “But sometimes there’s really no way to do that. Sometimes in life, there just isn’t.”* * *Nothing remains of the Thorpe family homestead. It’s a pasture at the dead end of a county road.Cows outnumber people here by a significant margin. Coyotes are such a problem that on a recent evening two rotting corpses are strung up by their heels on a fence by the roadside, mouths open and teeth bared. The stench is thought to ward off their chicken-rousting brethren.A mile or two farther out, a stone marker by the side of the road notes that the Thorpes’ log cabin stood nearby.At dusk, the sun fades over a small rise that gives onto grasslands and the open expanse of the Great Plains. The sky goes from blue to black, a half-moon brilliant overhead. Lights from a few homes blink in the distance, a quarter-mile, a half-mile, a mile away. The land is that wide open.It would have looked almost exactly this way — more wooded, more pastoral — in the 1890s, when the last of the Indian wars had not yet been fought, when Jim Thorpe was a boy in these fields, running after his father’s horses, playing with his brothers, sleeping in the loft of their cabin, the family together in the deep nighttime blackness.All that remains of most of them lies a mile to the west, beneath the stars, beneath the stone markers that bear their names, buried beneath the plains of their ancestors.Neely Tucker is a Washington Post staff writer. To comment on this story, send e-mail towpletters@washpost.com.

The Coda - A Very Interesting Electric Car - Made in America

http://app.codaautomotive.com/CarConfigurator

Click on Coda in title to go to their web page

This is an interesting electric car for many reasons -

1. It looks normal.

2. Is cost $30k after federal rebate.

3. It has an honest range of 125 miles.

4. Battery temperature control system.

5. Seating 5.

6. Made in Los Angeles.

7. 10 year battery warranty.

8. Quick charge 220 volt system and slower charge 110 volt system.

Florida State Seminoles Arrive in Nashville for the NCAA Tournament Opener

Written by Jim Lamar of the Tallahassee Democrat

NASHVILLE — A traveling party that numbered 114 people and included members of the Seminole Sound band and the Golden Girls made it obvious that this was no ordinary road trip.

But the Florida State men's basketball team did everything possible to make sure the 70-minute, non-stop flight to Nashville did nothing to distract from the business at hand.

From the comfort of their first-class seats on the Delta-chartered airplane, players slept or watched movies on their various portable electronic devices. (Senior guard Luke Loucks used the 70 minutes of free time to complete an essay for his "Sport in Media" class that is due this morning.) FSU coaches sat 20 rows behind the players — buffered by student assistants and team managers, support staff, administrators and a handful of boosters — watching game film of St. Bonaventure on their laptop computers. At one point, FSU coach Leonard Hamilton leaned across the aisle to grab assistant coach Corey Williams and say, "These guys are good."

Even as the group arrived in Nashville and headed directly to the Downtown Sheraton hotel — just a block or two away from the strip of bars and "honkey tonks" that helped earn the nickname "Music City" — players and coaches continued to keep their focus on the business end of this trip.

"It's a little bit different flying with the band and the media and the Golden Girls," Loucks said. "It's usually just the team and the support staff. Obviously there is a little more excitement in the air. But I think all of us guys are focused in that this is a business trip and we're here for a basketball game."

That basketball game tips off at approximately 2:45 p.m. on Friday, leaving the team a chance to absorb some of the Nashville atmosphere. A short break at the hotel gave players enough time to freshen up for a team meal at a restaurant in the downtown area that specializes in "Southern and country" cooking.

Afterward, the team returned to the hotel to continue mental preparations for Friday's game. A film session was scheduled as was a review of scouting reports.

That helped snap the players back into work mode, especially after a wild two days that followed the victory over North Carolina that clinched FSU's first ACC championship.

"With the veterans we have on this team, everyone knows what to expect in this tournament," Loucks said. "We'll be focused and ready to play."

Finding that focus hasn't exactly been the easiest of tasks the last few days. More than 100 fans showed for a special send-off celebration for the players and coaches on Wednesday and the buzz on campus has been even stronger.

"It's been crazy," senior guard Deividas Dulkys said. "We're trying to refocus. There is a lot of excitement still around campus. Everybody keeps talking about it. But you go to practice and try to stay focused and remember the task is to win more games."

FSU players will take part in an open practice session today at Bridgestone Arena, the site of Friday's game, from 2:15-2:55 p.m.

The Seminoles Boarding Bus to NCAA Tournament

Florida State Wins the ACC Basketball Crown - We Were There

Click lower right corner to enlarge video

This is the final play of the game and the party afterwards

This is the presentation of the trophy.

As we were jumping up and down behind FSU's bench - confetti and streamers falling all over - yeah FSU is the ACC champion - but we still have to drive 5 hours to get home. It reminded me so much of our trip to the Orange Bowl in 1994 when FSU won the Football National Championship. Even though we had great seats for cheap - we still had to drive 24 hours home to Pennsylvania.

Honestly - when we left Tallahassee Thursday morning - I never expected to win the championship. In the next three days - the Noles had to play Miami - Duke - and North Carolina. The championship always has to go down Tobacco Road. Things always have to be in their favor. The Seminoles are a bunch of misfit toys. They would have to beat National Champion Carolina and National Champion Duke - two teams filled with blue chipper athletes - choosing the easiest path to the NBA.

So when Lulu insist that "we be there" - I decided to make the most of it. I could enjoy the trip in my "new" Prius - visit a few brown sign historic sites - stay in a fancy hotel - and spend some time with Lulu's brother. The weather in Atlanta can't be that much worse than Tallahassee.

The sun shone brightly on the Georgia Capitol Dome and the Seminoles on Sunday.

On the way up - we decided to take the back roads of Georgia to see Jimmy' Carter's Plains home and Franklin Roosevelt's Warm Springs retreat. The Prius pleased us with 55.5 miles per gallon - but the best part of the car is its silence. You can talk at a normal speaking voice and not be drowned out by engine or tire noise. The weather was fantastic - 70 degrees and sunny all the way - great for walking around the two quaint little isolated tourist venues. We had the places to ourselves and your mind can wander back to those historic times when presidents spent lots of time among the people.

We arrived in Atlanta to a very nice hotel suite - downtown - an easy walk from all the action. We parked the car in the underground lot - and never saw it again until it was time to go home.

Lulu and I had a quiet walk through Olympic Park right before tipoff. Just on the other side of the CNN building was an arena packed with 20,000 fans - mostly Tar Heels.

The Seminoles first game was against a good Miami team that had just beaten them a week ago by about 10 points. On a neutral court it was a toss-up. Lulu found cheap - though high - seats on Craigslist for $22 each. After sitting there for 5 minutes - we decide to find some lower closer seats. We settled into some seats at half court behind some guy from Virginia Tech that looked and acted like Larry David from the "Larry David Show." The whole first half he whined on about what a horrible coach Leonard Hamilton was. I had promised Lulu I would NOT hit anyone on the trip - even if he was an old bald bespectacled Hebrew - so I shut up. He left before Hamilton's FSU team trampled Miami - the team that eliminated his Hokies. One down and two to go. We realized that FSU would have to beat Duke and Carolina within 24 hours to win this tournament. Hopeless I thought.

It was around midnight when we got back to the suite. We were all so tired and drained - we fell asleep immediately. Jackie and Tami had the living room - we had the bedroom in this old hotel. We had windows on two sides in our corner room - but the windows were painted shut - to prevent any Carolina fans from jumping out.

Saturday morning - we had a nice breakfast - and had plenty of time to kill before the evening games. Lulu and Jackie decided to go to an early game - I guess to scout out the opponents. While they were at the game - I got an email from an FSU friend - a very good friend. He said he had two spare tickets in the FSU session for the rest of the games. He would leave them at the "will call" window for me - FREE. Since the tickets had $90 face value - it quickly added up to a $360 savings. This trip was now making more sense to me - $$$$$. Maybe I shouldn't tell Lulu about the tickets and just sell them.

Yes - FSU beat Duke - unexpectedly. As we crawled into bed after a late supper of Varsity chili hot dogs - chili hamburgers - onion rings - french fires - and orange soda - visions of possibly winning this thing appeared in our heads. We all slept well - and were up early. The breakfast room in our hotel was packed. We decided to do a little needling of the Miami fans that were giving us crap two days ago. These are the guys that told us Bernard James's kick looked a little wide right. They would spend the rest of the weekend and their money watching all the other schools play.

On every trip we go - Lulu likes to visit a library. this was across the street from our hotel.

A note about tickets. All tickets are sold in booklets of 6 tickets that cost about $300 - $600 depending on the seat location. It seems that Duke and North Carolina are given favored treatment because most of the fans were from those two schools and had the best seats. The sidelines were mostly people wearing blue - the redheaded step children wore their colors in the end zones. That was okay because when Duke and North Carolina were losing to the Seminoles - it was very easy to identify their blue backs as they left the arena early. None of them wanted to stick around and join in any reindeer games with Rudolph when it was all over.

The big game was set for Sunday at 1 PM. Jacki and Tami had left for home - she had to work the next morning early. We had a pair of fantastic tickets in hand. We took a nice quiet walk through the Olympic Park and had the place to ourselves - a little picnic snack before the big one. At game time - we walked to our seats - nice - but in the end zone - second level. The game started and FSU built a small lead. We noticed 6 seats right behind the bench - surely they needed our support. We bolted. What was nice about the arena is that no ushers were challenging seat snipers. You were able to sit in a vacant seat - if the person came with a ticket you got out. By the time we got down by the FSU bench - 4 of the 6 seats that were empty were gone. But right in the middle of the player's families and girlfriends - there were two empty ones. We excused ourselves and moved in like we belonged. We had bright FSU shirts on and Lulu even had her giant flag. We sat down - took pictures and enjoyed the action. We were in with the "in" crowd.

This picture shows our view from the seats behind the bench. Just to the left of Bernard James's shoulder you see our friend Brandon Mellor. He is wearing the garnet and gold shirt - covering the game. You can read his take on Seminoles.com.

The place was filled with about 90% Carolina fans - maybe 3% Seminoles - and the rest cheering against the Tar Heels - Dukie fans in street clothes. The Duke fans quietly admitted they were happy to lose to FSU yesterday so they would not lose to Carolina today. They reluctantly cheered for the Noles that beat them twice this year. The deck was really stacked against the Noles.

As the game wore on and FSU built a 13 point lead - the Carolina fans sat on their hands. Could it be possible that this team of misfit toys could beat the 10 NBA lottery draft picks on the Tar Heel Team? Nah - they were just saving their energy for the final stretch when FSU would crumble. Surely they owed the Noles something for embarrassing them by 33 points in Tallahassee. That could never happen again.

Near the end Carolina had a rally - the fans had plenty of energy saved up and they really rocked the arena. The FSU Golden Girls seemed to help stave off the onslaught. But the hearts of the FSU Renegades did not crumble. They got the rebounds - hit the foul shots - and were not denied. When the smoke cleared - and the streamers and confetti fell from the sky - the Noles were the REAL ACC Champions. For the first time since they joined the premier basketball conference 20 years ago - they were wearing the basketball crown.

The baby blue fans were out of the arena in an instant - all that was left was a rag tag band of FSU fans and a few ACC officials that begrudgedly stuck around to hand out awards - their work done for another year of living off the sweat of these young men that ended up with a hat and a t-shirt.

There is always hope - but with 6 seniors - and only one McDonald's All-American on the team - I doubt that Leonard Hamilton will adjust the headband on the crown. Duke or Carolina will probably get it back next year when they move the tournament to their backyard in Greensboro. Life will go in Tallahassee.

Walking to the game - Lulu is posed before our Residence Inn hotel. Our windows are on the 13th floor - good luck for the Seminoles.

For one shining moment - the Florida State Seminole sits on the throne of basketball's most storied conference. Dick Vitale and the other talking heads have already been making excuses - how Duke and Carolina have bigger fish to fry down the NCAA road. Surely the wheels will turn and nature will arrange things in the proper order and the Noles will go back to playing to an empty house in Tallahassee. Or will they?

Me - I'll be waiting for an ACC Championship ring to appear on ebay.

Sitting Behind Seminoles Bench for the Big Game

Florida State in the ACC Championship Game

It is a little tiring hearing about how Florida State is a football school. The fans of Duke and Carolina are used to having everything their way. They get the best seats in the arena - they get to pick the city where we play - it seems they get to pick the best restaurants - hotel - decorations - cars - and bling. They do not like some little upstart basketball program from "the land of the misfit toys" to come to town and challenge their supremacy.

It is tiring to hear Dick Vital and the rest of the talking heads going on about the 20 or so McDonald All-Americans wearing Tar Heel and Devil blue.

Back when FSU was 9-6 after getting pounded at Clemson - everyone was ready to leave the sinking ship. The race baiters had a chance to pick on Coach Leonard Hamilton because his six senior team had not gelled into the fighting force that it became later. When the Noles beat North Carolina in Tallahassee - they loved calling it a fluke. Then when the Noles went to Duke and won the game at the buzzer - it was just luck. But things have changed.

Leonard Hamilton has molded a determined force in his own image. Leonard raised himself up from a dirt farm with grit. He got his degree through basketball - was a player - and even spent some time in the NBA. He has been named Coach of the Year in both the Big East and the ACC. He finds players in the strangest places - Lithuania - the Air Force - Tallahassee Community College - and even gets some after they graduate from other colleges.

This team has been a a joy to watch. 6 seniors are going to graduate on time - they are in the swan song of their basketball career. Some of them hit hard times - like the a high school dropout - the one that spent some time in prison- the two that played at other colleges - the Air Force veteran and war hero - and several others that are too short or too light to play in the big leagues.

The announcers will go on about the Dukies and Tar Heels that will go first in the NBA draft. They will complain when the FSU fans storm the court and knock over their microphones. They will talk about how FSU fans are only concerned about Wide Right. The scalpers are complaining that tickets that would bring $300 for a Duke/Carolina Championship will only bring $100 to see the Cinderella Noles.

Lulu has had this hotel room for two months. She was hoping her sons could get here to enjoy the championship with her. It would have been very easy to sit at home and watch the action on our big Sony with its Directv DVR. But we stayed the course - the like our Seminoles. Brother Jackie from Virginia made the 6 hour drive to share the joy. But Lulu has her hotel room key in one hand and her Florida State Flag in the other.

On Friday we took crap from Miami fans. They said Bernard James's kick was a little "wide right." Then we had to watch the game from the end zone because the prime seats were filled with fans in blue along the sidelines. But as the final buzzer went off - half of those blue shirts were in their cars going up I-85. Those left in the light blue are very uneasy.

Carolina hopes to avenge the 33 point loss they suffered in Tallahassee on national television. Coach Roy Williams abandoned his team on the court as he rushed off to save his own embarrassment - before Coach Hamilton reminded him - "Coach ---your team."

Through all of this - Coach Hamilton has been a model of class and dignity. He has been a role model for his team and all the other teams and fans at FSU.

Carolina has all the weapons to clobber FSU today at 1 PM. We will be in our end zone seats - hoping to witness something special. 5 or 6 of these Tar Heels will end up in the NBA. We are hoping to side track them for one day - just like the 5 or 6 Dukies that will make millions in the NBA. We are just hoping they will be hanging one less banner in the Dean Dome and the Seminoles will be wearing their ACC Championship rings for the rest of their lives.

Empty Section Next to Us

Our Comp Tickets For Today - 200 Level - FSU Section

We Are Staying in the Rhodes-Haverty Building in Atlanta

The Residence Inn Atlanta Downtown is a 21-story hotel tower occupying the former Rhodes-Haverty Building at 134 Peachtree Street NW and Williams Street in the Fairlie-Poplar historic district of downtown Atlanta, Georgia. The building was designed by Atlanta architects Pringle and Smith. At the time of its construction in 1929, it was the tallest building in the city, and remained so until 1954.

The building and the district are listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Lulu booked it because it was close to the Arena - it has free wifi - free breakfast - and free happy hour.

Free Tickets for the Rest of the ACC Tournament

A good friend who works for FSU just emailed to say he has two extra free tickets for the rest of the games. The seats are in the FSU section. He is leaving the tickets at the Will Call Window for us.

We are really happy because today's tickets are going for high prices because both Duke and UNC are playing in the double header. First game - NCSU versus UNC. Second game - Duke versus FSU.

Tomorrow's championship game will be between the winners of today's games. Then we drive home.

We Moved Downstairs to Here

Halftime duke 31. Vt 26

Added later -

Duke won the first game - FSU won the second game by 10. they play each other tomorrow. The winner of that game is in the championship - probably playing Carolina on Sunday.

20 Minute To Dukies Game

That is the Dumies down there

More News From Atlanta and the ACC Tournament

I took this picture last night from our seats for the VATech and the Miami games. They both advanced to play today. We bought those seats for $15 each - face value $43 each. In advance tickets for the whole tournament is $250. It includes a ticket for each of the 6 sessions. If your team loses the first day - you are stuck with all those extra tickets.

This is the Georgia State Capitol from our suite at the Residence Inn on the Peachtree Plaza. It was just raining but now the sun broke thru. We are about 4 blocks from the arena and the Olympic Park.

Lulu scored 4 cheap tickets for tonight. Duke plays VT and FSU plays Miami. She found the tickets on Craigslist. We had to ride 7 miles north on the subway to pick them up at Lenox Square Mall. She got 4 seats together - up high - for $22 each - face value on them is $60 each. Since Jackie and Tami are coming - we wanted 4 safety seats together. We will try later for better seats - and sell these if we are successful. Then she spent her "savings" on two new pair of shoes.

These two guys were commenting on the game down in front of us.

Lulu just texted me to say she got into the Carolina game for $10 - then moved down behind the bench because no one is checking.

Lulu Lands 4 Tickets for FSU and Duke Games Today

We are at Lenox mall. Nancy landed 4 tickets together. Front row. For session 4. Both the Duke and FSU games. She got them for $22 each. They are $60 face value. Front row but upper deck! Scalpers were asking $150 each last night for them. We can always move down or sell them if we get better tix. Jackie and Tami are coming - Jackie is LuLu's brother.

Lulu Just Hooked 4 Tickets for Duke and FSU Games Tonight

We are on our way to pick up tickets. Scalpers were asking $150 each for tickets to tonight's double header with Duke and FSU playing two games.

She landed 4 tickets for a total of $90. They are the worst in the house - way up -but at least they will be a good safety ticket. Jackie and Tami are coming fromVirginia. We will sell them if we get better tickets.

We must take the subway out to a mall to pick them up.

Bernard James - Wide Right

At the ACC Tournament - a Miami fan told me that Bernard James should try out for the FSU football team. His kick appeared a little wide right.

Harry in Jimmy Carter's Head - Plains GA

Roosevelt's Little White House In Georgia

Franklin Roosevelt died at Warm Springs GA while he was getting this portrait painted. This is the unfinished painting.

Roosevelt's car had hand controls for the gas - brake - and clutch pedals. They were very basic - just long levers that pressed the pedals.

Most of the world did not know about these wheelchairs and leg braces. Often times he has his photos taken standing behind wide podiums and sitting with his legs crossed jauntily without his braces on.

This bathroom was next to the bed where he died. Notice the first "American's With Disabilities Act" toilet. He was "ahead of his time." He made this nation run when he could not walk.

Franklin Roosevelt made 46 trips to his vacation home at Warm Springs GA. He first came there in 1922 for the "healing" effects of the 88 degree mineral waters. He was able to stand in 4 feet of water unaided. Little did America realize that their president of 12 years could not walk or stand on his own without leg braces. During his time he guided the world thru the Great Depression and World War II against Germany and Japan.

He died at Warm Springs in April 1945 - the War was almost over. He had already approved the atomic bomb. He died of a brain hemorrhage while getting his portrait painted. He was with his good friend Lucy.

At his funeral - they played Franklin's favorite song - Going Home.

We Got In First Two Games - We Bought Tickets Outside for $15 Each

Got a pair in section 101. Row P. seats 8-9. $15 each.

Walked about 5 blocks from our hotel. Gobs of scalpers. Ready for tip off. Clemson and Va Tech. Tickets are 4 two games. Nice new arena. Philips arena.

Added later - Clemson beat VaTech - Miami beat Ga Tech. FSU will play Miami at the 9 PM game Friday. It will be an expensive ticket because Duke plays in that same session - Session 4.

Harry's iPhone

With Stops in Plains and Warm Springs - Welcome to Atlanta and the ACC Tournament

The Prius computer does not lie - 55.5 miles per gallon.

We left home in Tallahassee at 7 AM this morning and drove the backroads of Georgia. We spent a couple hours in Plains and had an unexpected stop at Warm Springs to see Roosevelt's Little White House. Finally - 285 miles later - we handed the valet the key to the Prius to put her to bed for 3 days at our hotel. We are on the 13th floor in a Residence Inn in downtown Atlanta.

The Prius served us well. We got 55.5 miles per gallon! It was a very comfortable quiet ride with very little traffic.

We will spend 3 nights here watching FSU and Duke play basketball games. Hopefully - we have a reason to stay for the final game Sunday.

Our first stop was the Home of Jimmy Carter - Plains. It is a really small town that time has left behind. The railroad track parallels the main street in downtown. Several little stores were selling trinkets and peanut stuff. We enjoyed some soft serve peanut butter ice cream and bought a bag of fried peanuts and a big bag of chocolate peanut brittle.

Jimmy's high school has been turned into a first class museum. We were lucky enough to stumble onto a dramatic presentation in the auditorium. A lady was playing the housemaid at Miss Lillian's farm. Next we drove out of town to see Jimmy's birthplace home and store. Also - we drove by his present home. We did not see him - but he still teaches Sunday School twice a month in town.

Half way from Plains to Atlanta - we stumbled onto Warm Springs. Roosevelt spent lots of time there - mainly to swim in the 88 degree water coming out of the spring. The water was full of minerals and he was convinced that it helped his polio. The spring is still flowing today - 900 gallons a minute of 88 degree water.

After that - we had roughly two hours to drive to Atlanta. Our hotel in downtown Atlanta is very nice. We have a suite on the 13th floor - bedroom - kitchen - living room - bathroom. We arrived to 72 degree temperature in Atlanta. We can see the Capitol golden dome out our window. We can walk to the games at Philips Arena.

We expect a visit from Lulu's brother Jackie over the weekend.

Here we are in front of Roosevelt's Little White House.

Franklin Roosevelt died in this bed a couple of weeks before World War II ended.

Roosevelt was president for 12 years - and no one knew that he could not walk. He had polio and was paralyzed from the waist down. Imagine trying to hide that today. Here you see his wheelchair and leg braces.

This is Jimmy Carter's boyhood home in Plains. The family had a store next to it. The house had a small bathroom - heat was from a fireplace in each room and a kitchen stove. Water flowed by gravity to the bathroom from a water tower filled by a windmill.

Downtown Plains is really small. Lulu enjoyed shopping there - prices were reasonable. We probably saw less than 15 people the while time.

This old train station served as Jimmy's campaign headquarters. Across the track was Billy Carter's filling station.

Plains Georgia - Home of Jimmy Carter

We are enjoying a pretty sunny day in downtown Plains. Jimmy still lives here. His boyhood home and school are museums. This is still a very quaint little village. A single home right downtown is for sale for $30,000.

Harry's iPhone

In Camilla Georgia On To Atlanta

Lulu and I are driving to the ACC Tournament in Atlanta. We plan to stop in Plains to visit Jimmy Carter.

Harry's iPhone

Lulu in New York

Shopping in Chinatown

Holy Cow Are You Kidding?

Click on "Kidding" for Video of Final Shot

By: Brandon Mellor, Seminoles.com Senior Writer

CHARLOTTESVILLE, Va. -- For a team that has made a habit out of hitting game-winning 3-pointers, this was a new one for No. 22 Florida State.

Like the buzzer-beating wins over Duke and Virginia Tech, FSU's 63-60 victory at No. 24 Virginia Thursday ended the same way with a clutch long-range jumper. But on a night when the Seminoles (20-9, 11-4 Atlantic Coast Conference) were looking to avoid their first three-game ACC losing streak since 2008, it wasn't Michael Snaer that took the final shot and Bernard James wasn't there to set a well-timed screen or celebrate with his teammates.

Instead, Ian Miller played the role of hero this time as his 3-pointer with 0.8 seconds left gave the 'Noles their fourth-consecutive 20-win season and capped off an impressive comeback after it seemed like the garnet-and-gold colored wheels had fallen off following James' ejection.

FSU's senior center was tossed from the game after he half-heartedly but intentionally kicked Virginia's Joe Harris with 4:58 remaining. James' uncharacteristic play occurred before the Cavaliers (21-8, 8-7) increased their lead to 58-47 20 seconds later.

But despite the loss of its best post player, FSU's guard-heavy lineup -- and perhaps the team's emotional response to James' impromptu absence -- erased the 11-point deficit and closed the game on a 13-2 run.

In that time span, not only did Florida State get nine points from Miller but the Seminoles also forced four Virginia turnovers.

"It was like, `It's on now,'" Snaer said. "They messed up. They shouldn't have ever threw BJ out of the game. That was the mistake they made. The fans were like, `Yes. BJ's gone. We can attack them.' No, because we just get even more mad, We just get even more fuel.

"We're a fuel team. We're an angry team and when we're angry, we can hurt you."

Miller's nine points in the final minutes were indicative of his second-half performance in Charlottesville, Va. The sophomore guard scored 15 of his team-best 18 points in the second period while shooting 5-of-8 from 3-point range all game.

And none were bigger of course than his final three as his deep triple was made despite good defense by Cavs guard Sammy Zeglinksi -- another anomaly in FSU's year of buzzer-beaters as Snaer's two game-winners were both registered when he was wide open.

"When it left my hand, I knew it was good," Miller said.

As for Snaer, he and Xavier Gibson combined for 12 points apiece and the Seminoles shot 51.1-percent from the floor. Virginia, which was 17-0 in games that it scored at least 60 points prior to Thursday night, shot 45.4 percent and was out-rebounded 25-17.

Mike Scott scored 28 points for the Cavaliers but he was held to just one shot attempt during the 'Noles' late-game run to victory.

Before the game even tipped off, FSU had already secured a No. 3 seed and first-round bye in next week's ACC Tournament in Atlanta thanks to a Miami loss the night before. The 'Noles will play a week from Friday at 9 p.m. in Phillips Arena after they conclude the regular season this Sunday at home against Clemson.

It will be Senior Day at the Donald L. Tucker Center and before tipping off at noon, the program will recognize James,Deividas Dulkys, Luke Loucks, Xavier Gibson, Jon Kreft and Jeff Peterson.

Nightclubbing at Dangerfield's!

Free Dessert at Tony DiNapoli's for Dolores' Birthday

Delores seems to have a birthday wherever she goes.

Posted directly from Lulu's iPhone

Betty and Delores Arrive in New York City with Their Escort

The Golden Girls Live Once Again

Lulu - her Mom Betty - her Aunt Delores - and her Cousin Georgianne.

Last spring - Lulu had a visit from her mother - her aunt - and her cousin. They all came to Tallahassee to spend a week in the warm weather. They reminded me of the 4 Golden Girls on television.

Two weeks ago - Lulu was invited to sit on a panel at the New York Public Library on 5th Avenue in NYC. They offered her a nice stipend and an all-expense paid trip to the Big Apple which included a Marriott Hotel room across the street. Right away Lulu called her Mom and asked if she wanted to spend 3 days in the city with her. She also asked her aunt and cousin to fill out the party.

It is 5 AM - I just put Lulu on a plane here in Tallahassee. By noon she will be in her hotel room. Lulu flies so much now she has a Gold Medallion card. You get it for flying 50,000 miles a year. With it - she gets upgraded to first class almost every flight. On this flight she is flying first class.

The other three will be traveling from Tamaqua by TransBridge Bus.

Lulu's library gig will be over in an hour. The rest of the time they will spend shopping - dining - and going to Broadway shows and comedy clubs.

In December - Lulu had another presentation in NYC. On that time she invited her 3 cousins to come stay. They had so much fun - Lulu thought it would be years before she did that again. Here - a few months later - it is deja vu. This is like having your cake and eating it too. Lulu has lost over 20 pounds in the least 5 months - I hope she does not have too much cake.

Lulu plans to be home on Saturday to see the UNC at Duke basketball game on TV. She is leaving 3 days that are expect to hit 80 degrees in Tallahassee. Up North they are having a snow and ice storm. I am home alone with the house and weather to myself. We are all winners :-)