We recently bought a new refrigerator – a behemoth, really – a big, bright, shiny stainless steel French door fridge with freezer on the bottom – to replace our old, white side-by-side model. This was a big, freaking deal. Indeed, it was so momentous that I posted a Facebook announcement to commemorate the occasion:
You see, we bought our old fridge over 25 years ago before our first child, Chloe, was born. That fridge was a pain in the patootie from the beginning. I don’t know what we were thinking when we bought it back then other than that the side-by-side was the newfangled option to replace the drab olive green (or was it dingy goldenrod?) single door fridge with freezer up top – a freezer that frequently demanded defrosting – that was about a bazillion years old. It was not a wise purchase. It’s always been impossible to find stuff in the side-by-side: often we’d push leftovers or half empty condiment bottles or packages of fresh, organic herbs to the rear – deep into the dark, dank nether regions – and there they would remain to rot, buried in a veritable veggie and gravy graveyard. Occasionally, we’d clean the thing out (well, my husband would; it’s a chore I despise) only to find the fetid food had been resurrected into vibrant, fuzzy penicillin cultures.
Ewwww. Gross. I know. The freezer, too, became a land of no return: aluminum foil wrapped meats, hastily packed in before they turned rancid, never to see the light of day again (or the microwave to thaw), were freezer burned beyond utility by encrusted ice crystals. Such a waste. The in-door ice and water dispenser stopped working years ago. And, every so often, water leaked and pooled onto the kitchen floor beneath the left side of the freezer door. So, while the darn thing still worked, chugging along dutifully like the Energizer Bunny, it was time to replace it.
In preparation for the delivery of the new fridge, we had to clean out the old – both the inside and the outside. Ugh. We salvaged what we could from the inside, storing the stuff in coolers and in the basement fridge until delivery of the new appliance. Not thinking much about it, we removed the many magnets that we’d stuck to the front and side, piling them one atop the other in a plastic container. When the new fridge arrived, I was so bedazzled by its brilliant shininess that I decided not to put the magnets back on it.
Still, the plastic bin, heaped with the many magnets casually thrown together, remained on a corner of the kitchen island. We walked by it. We worked around it. We moved it from one corner to the other. Not really noticing it. You know?
Until today.
I have a snow day from school today, and my husband kindly made pancakes (pancakes with caramelized bananas and fresh blackberries, yum) for breakfast; he cleared off the island to work. As I set the plates on the dinette, I looked around. Something was off. What was it? Hmmm. Ahh: Where were the magnets? He had moved them from the island to a shelf beneath the window. Spying the bin, it suddenly struck me (well, I’m sure I’d always known this, but today, it suddenly struck me): each magnet had its own memories; all, countless stories from across the years. And, there they were, under the window, out of the way, overflowing their plastic bin: memories clinging magnetically to memories, maybe in fear of being tossed out, or, worse yet, forgotten.
May it never be.
So begins a series on Magnet Memories, showcasing the collection that adorned the old fridge and telling the stories behind them.
Magnet Memories: Knoebels
These three magnets, for example, represent multiple visits to Knoebels, an award-winning, family run amusement park in Elysburg, PA.
Knoebels is a special place: it’s one of the last amusement parks that doesn’t charge admission. You only pay if you are going to ride the rides, purchasing a wrist band to ride all day or old fashioned tickets to ride individual rides. If you’re not a rider, you can wander through the park, accompanying those who do ride, and enjoy all of the other amenities the park offers without having to pay exorbitant admission fees. Knoebels has been recognized as one of the best parks for its food offerings – unique amusement park food like creamed chipped beef on toast (not my favorite), roast beef, meatloaf, pot pie, gator bites, kielbasa, haluski, potato cakes, and pierogi, to name a few. Nestled among the hills and trees, this park’s setting is gorgeous, and on hot summer days, the shade is as cool and refreshing as the homemade ice cream and old fashioned milk shakes.
But, Knoebels is even more special to me because my Mom used to visit when she was a child. Established in 1926, Knoebels, located in mid-eastern Pennsylvania, is not far from Shamokin, Mt. Carmel, and Locust Gap – where my Grandma McCarthy was born and raised. My Grandma moved to Youngstown when she married, but she, my Grandpa, and all the kids used to “go back to the Gap” to visit the family that remained there. During those visits “back home,” my Mom and her siblings ventured to Knoebels for days filled with good, clean fun.
I love going back to the Gap with my Mom, even though there’s not much there anymore. All of her family who remained are gone now; we visit them in the cemetery when we go back to the Gap. My husband and I have made several trips to Knoebels with our kids over the years: once with my Mom and Dad when we stayed in a cabin at Yogi on the River in Northumberland (magnet pictured above and a funny story about my Dad sleeping on a partially opened futon – more on that in another post), once when we camped at Knoebels campground in our popup camper, and another time when we returned to Knoebels campground with the Roo – our Rockwood Roo hybrid camper.
Each time we had a blast in the park. Knoebels isn’t like Cedar Point or King’s Island or any of the Six Flags parks. At Knoebels, you rarely stand in line for more than ten minutes for any ride. The atmosphere is more like a hometown country fair. After almost a hundred years, it’s still going strong, and given the choice between Knoebels and one of the big parks with big ticket admission prices and big crowds, I’ll take Knoebels every time. In fact, I think it’s high time for a return visit. Maybe this summer.
Magnet Memories: Pioneer Tunnel Coal Mine
Locust Gap, Elysburg, and the environs are Pennsylvania coal country. On one of our visits to Knoebels, we took a side trip to check out the Pioneer Tunnel Coal Mine in Ashland, PA, and we picked up this magnet to remember our visit there:
My Mom’s family worked in the mines, and I was fascinated (and, I won’t lie, scared) to venture into this mine. I never thought I was claustrophobic, but something about traveling deep inside the side of the mountain freaked me out. Still, it was a memorable excursion. I’d do it again and recommend it to anyone who might be visiting in the area. We weren’t prepared, though, for the cool temperatures inside the mine. While I had my jacket, the rest of the family had to don “loaners” at the entrance to the mine in order to stay warm inside. I don’t think my husband would ever wear a jacket like the one pictured below otherwise!
Looking at these four magnets – four magnets among the many in the pile in the plastic bin on the shelf below the window – made me pause on this snowy snow day – a day when I normally would be at school, a day off instead when I could have been catching up on school work or reading or watching TV or napping or doomscrolling through social media – and reminisce about the stories behind them. Magnet Memories.
It’s been a day well spent.
#InAroundAndBeyondTheBuckeye
Buckeye Bonhomie 