I got down to the creek about 7:00am and found a couple of folks and 2 dogs camped on the banks, but no fishermen. My original assumption was that fishermen don’t get up as early as photographers do. It was only when I got to work the following Monday that I learned Opening Day doesn’t start till 8:00am. It was my first jaunt down the 1/4 mile long Fisherman’s Path (accessed from Clear Shade Road) and I found myself about 50 yards further upstream than I had ever been. So this was the splash dams that my brother and his buddy, Larry Kmeil, had talked about: a broad glade of ponds, reeds and shrubs right in front of my camera. With no fishermen around, I took a few shots of the Creek and the adjacent John P. Saylor Trail and headed out. Ascending out of the glen, I finally saw my first fishermen of the day, on their way down to the creek.

The photo of the Flight 93 Memorial is certainly the non sequiter it appears to be in this gallery, but I wanted to scope the fishing action along the Stonycreek, and thought, while I was in the area, I’d try to reshoot a photo I had taken a couple years before and wasn’t happy with. Who knew they had moved the Memorial across the road and completely altered the composition? As for Opening Day, anglers dotted the Stonycreek from Shanksville, near it’s source, down through Kantner, Hooversville and at least as far as Hollsopple. Thirty years ago, this river was orange and dead. Now look at it. Hollsopple looked like a real fine party going on, and I regret I didn’t have more time to spend there.

One more point to make (okay, a couple more): heading back to Johnstown along 403 and feeling a little peckish, I was trying to work out a scenario for lunch. Cheap and lazy as I am, with my time as well as my money, I hesitated to stop at Sheetz or some other “fast food emporium (there’s a reason they call it JUNK food). Well, God bless the Conemaugh Township Fire Department. Making my way through Tire Hill, there stands a woman at the side of the road waving a sub in my face. Hallelujah! Good food cheap AND quick. Pretty smart having a sub sale on Opening Day,

Finally, if you’re interested in learning more about trout fishing in the highlands, check out the Mountain Laurel Chapter of Trout Unlimited. Good info and pics and a chance to join up.

Enjoy the photos.

(It’s a long article, so just a reminder that the gallery, as always, can be found at the end of the post.)

Sandyvale Cemetery, in Johnstown’s Hornerstown neighborhood, is one dreary place in early April. Grey clouds cover the early spring sky; winds lurch down the Stonycreek valley from the top of the Allegheny Front, and the place is acres and acres of little beyond acres and acres.

Prompted by a thread in a local forum, I lurched my own self down to the city’s oldest burial ground to see what I could see. After three major floods, there isn’t much left. A couple or few dozen worn headstones, some broken, a few illegible; line Sandyvale’s only discernable avenue: a barely paved former drive stretching from the Hickory Street entrance to the cemetery’s far end near Messenger Street. Beyond the far end, on land that, at one time, was the original St. Joseph’s Cemetery, sit scores of blue and white porta-potties, adding to the dismal ambience.

Drifting along the lane, the visitor discovers a litany of names that should be familiar to most Johnstowners: Horner, Bheam, Benshoff, Strayer and more. In the center of the tract, and afforded the most consideration, is a veteran’s memorial. Sandyvale is or was the final resting place for veterans who served in all of our nation’s wars from the Revolution through World War II. A flagpole stands in the middle of a circle. Ringing the the circle are 21 flat stones commemorating the service of 20 Civil War vets. The lone standout is the white stone of Pvt. Cleveland Emerick, who served in World War I.

At the end of the lane, in another ring and offended by the porta-potties beyond, stands the statue of a young girl with the name “Jacoby” carved in the base. The statue is surrounded by additional broken and eroded markers. The remainder of the landscape is dotted with derelict streetlamps, a couple of daffodil beds and the occasional ornamental fruit tree.

Frankly, the place looks like Sodom & Gomorrah on the day after judgement, and that’s no way to memorialize the departed. Apparently the official name is now SANDYVALE MEMORIAL BOTANICAL GARDENS & ARBORETUM. A few years back an overly-ambitious plan was floated to redefine the cemetery. Immediately a few of the few surviving descendants took arms against this sea of trouble and demanded the interrees be left alone. I can’t say where the plan stands today, but certainly a bit of landscaping and a few walking paths to encourage visitors and meditation would certainly be a more fitting memorial to Johnstown’s founders than the barren plain that sits there now.

It should be pointed out that the plan posted here contains no specific reference for memorializing those currently interred in Sandyvale.

On a side note, there are 2 photos below of a Grandview statue that I refer to as the Lady in White (not to be confused with the White Lady of Beulah, or the White Lady of Ghost Town Trail, or the White Lady of Wapsononock Mountain). I know of 4 other identical statues across the Northeast and Midwest: one in the suburbs north of Boston, another in upstate New York, a third in Wisconsin or Michigan (everything was a blur) and, the one I’m most familiar with, a fourth in Lancaster, PA. As the statue in Lancaster is somewhat sheltered from the elements by trees and an urban setting, and not placed out in the open on top of a mountain; and, since she comes with a real, if not necessarily true ghost story, I’ve added a post and gallery on Lancaster’s Lady in White to illustrate the poignancy and craft of 19th century memorial sculptors.

Requiescat in pace.