Groman (1862-1940) was born in Allentown and moved with his parents to South Bethlehem. Groman joined the family contracting and bricklaying business, Groman Brothers, which was the largest brick manufacturer in Bethlehem. The company built the Anthracite Building, Central High School, Allentown State Hospital, the Ingersoll-Sargent Company building in Easton, and numerous private residences. Groman was a city councilman, for nine years and served as treasurer of Northampton County (1899-1902). He was a founding member of the Lehigh Hook and Ladder Company (1884).
Last week I did something I had not done in 29 years. I bought a new car.
To regular readers and friends who know and admire my spiffy 1984 wagon: Don't worry. I did not part with it. Perish the thought.
Actually, that wonderful old car of mine was the main reason my husband and I decided to splurge on a new one.
With more than 130,000 miles on the odometer, my little red wagon was working too hard and deserves a good waxing and some garage time.
My husband's 1991 two-door model has logged over 200,000 miles, so we are reluctant to drive it long distances.
To the Editor
"Delivering Quality and Innovation in Patient Care," the American Nurses Association 2013 Nurse Week theme, acknowledges the invaluable nursing contributions to quality and innovation across the country. St. Luke's University Health Network's nurses demonstrate their commitment to quality and innovation each and every day. Whether they practice in primary care, emergency departments, operating rooms, clinics or inpatient nursing units, St. Luke's nurses continually search for ways to improve the safety and outcomes of their care.
If you ask my husband, Facebook will bring about the end of the civilized world as we know it.
While I'm not quite so apocalyptic in my thinking, a recent experience on Facebook really opened my eyes to the value of paying attention to your privacy settings.
I'm not a particularly private person. As the editor of the local newspaper, the line between work and home is often blurred. Many sources have my office, home phone and cell numbers. And I've written about my life and personal experiences in columns.
I couldn't believe it. In my hands was a piece of history: wood from the First House of Bethlehem. The same wood that long ago our pioneer founders hewed out of the wilderness and crafted into a humble dwelling. The very same wood in which Count Zinzendorf, acting upon impulse, led the Moravians in singing, "Not Jerusalem - lowly Bethlehem Twas' that gave us Christ to save us; Not Jerusalem," and thus christened our community on a cold Christmas Eve night.
For the better part of those angst-filled teenage years and during summers spent at home in Pennsylvania's Coal Region, between college years, I found myself saying, "God, I can't wait to get out of Tamaqua."
Now, having lived in China for three years among Beijing's nearly 20 million people, 3 million autos and its domineering buildings and dirty streets, the hypocrite in me now says, "God, I can't wait to go home," not indefinitely, but certainly as a short respite from my busy city life.