Jon Kennedy, Nanty Glo Home Page webmaster and owner, is a former teen and campus minister. He began his journalism career as teen columnist for the Nanty Glo Journal and its sister weekly newspapers from 1957 to '62 and became the Journal's third editor in 1962 at age 20. He has edited other newspapers and magazines, and more recently, webzines, ever since. His articles have appeared in the Los Angeles Times, Detroit Free Press, Cleveland Plain-Dealer, Christianity Today, and many other publications. His Jonals appear here on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

Complete index of Jon Kennedy's Jonal articles

Jon Kennedy's latest book is The Everything Guide to C.S. Lewis and Narnia, now in stores, from Adams Media, F&W Publications. From May 9, 2007 through July 2, 2008 his blog entries or "Jonals" were articles inspired by readings in Lewis's work that didn't fit into the book. Click here for a list of all articles in the C.S. Lewis Overflow series. The book is available for purchase in support of the Liberty Museum in Nanty Glo and is also available on Amazon.

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Bill Martin

Jonal entry 1097 | April 8 2009

I've been telling bits and pieces about the history of my acquaintance with Bill Martin since Saturday, since I got news of his death from Judy Rose. Jim Lauffer asked me to share recollections of Bill for his article for the Journal, I put some in the introduction I added to Judy's profile of Bill in 2002, to update it, and in an introduction to Bill's obituary which I posted here on Monday morning (San Jose time). I also tried to put something personal in my note of condolence in the Tribune-Democrat's obituary "Guest Book."

The main thing I remember Bill for was that he was the first friend I made in Nanty Glo after starting the teen column that I did in the Journal for five years. I was a backward and shy 15-year-old from Redmill Road near Belsano who had hitch-hiked into town to turn in my column, possibly as early after its launch as a few weeks. The column started in September, 1957, and Bill had graduated from Nanty Glo-Vintondale High School the previous June. After exchanging a few words with my editor, Andy Rogalski, at the Journal office next to the K&B Restaurant on Roberts Street, I made my way up the Lloyd Street Hill to Mitchells' Restaurant. I don't know whether I already knew Mitchells' was there or if I found it "accidentally," but my guess is I had been told about it by a classmate from Blacklick High who had visited Nanty Glo more than I had before that time, Lucky Bracken. Or I could have been told about it from my girlfriend at the time, Caryl, who lived about two blocks from Mitchells' but, I feel certain, would never have visited it herself. But it was a teen hangout and since teenagers were the subject of my weekly journalistic endeavor, I had to check it out. I had enough money for a bottle of Sun Drop (a more sparkly and probably more caffeinated predecessor of Mountain Dew) but probably not much more money than that. But I could make a day out of 15 cents in those days.

When I walked into the dimly lit and sparsely furnished restaurant from the bright sunshine outside, I was accosted by a boy about my age giving me a hard time about the recent column I'd done, in which I questioned whether Elvis Presley, though a great singer, was really cut out for acting. I didn't have time to react before a high-pitched man's voice in the corner booth rang out to tell the would-be bully to keep quiet, and that what I was doing was a good thing for the teenagers thereabouts. Talk about mixed emotions! If Bill hadn't beat me to the punch (for it was he who came to my defense) I might have said "oops," cowered back outside and made my way to hitch-hikers' corner sooner than I wanted to. But the boy just shrugged at Bill's reprimand and resumed watching his pals playing pinball. Bill then invited me to come over so he could make my acquaintance.

The second thing I remember Bill for was that he was unlike anyone I had ever known before. He was bigger (I thought gigantic) and despite his size his voice was soft and melodious. And despite his authoritative way with unruly teenagers, he struck me as somewhat effeminate. But he was a great conversationalist (anyone who starts by saying I'm doing something good for Nanty Glo has my undivided attention and possibly lifelong loyalty), and had a great sense of humor and wit. After drinking my pop he invited me across the street to meet his mother, Kitty Martin, who was another unforgettable character. She expressed pleasure in meeting me and assured me she liked the column, and soon I had two longterm friendships. It had to be the most Dickensian afternoon of my young life; I was a twentieth-century David Copperfield by the time I left the Martins' house. Kitty told me Bill had tried seminary (I'm still not sure whether he went to the school in Loretto for a summer term a few months earlier, or perhaps even tried beginning in September, but whatever it was, he had already given up on it). But the fact that he had even been interested in the priesthood rang bells. He and Kitty were church-going Irish Catholics with strong opinions and more ability to express them than anyone I'd met in Blacklick Township, and I was an Irish Protestant with equally strong opinions and a know-it-all but charming attitude.

The gang at Merlos, circa 1962. From the left: Joe Selip, Linda Gibson, Carole Ann (Mickie) McDermott, Mary Lou Ciprich (Cip) Ford, and Bill Martin. The photo was taken in Merlos' Restaurant, Mundys Corner, by Jon Kennedy with the Nanty Glo Journal camera.

I almost immediately wondered if Bill was a homosexual but I never asked, even when, after we got to be good friends he talked about sex occasionally—in an abstract, almost clinical way, often mentioning things he'd read in a sex education magazine he regularly received—but never talked about dating women. It remained a mystery to me for the rest of his life, but of course I had no "need to know." Through the rest of the years I spent in the Valley, we got together often, starting out, once I had a car (Bill didn't get a driver's license until some years after I'd moved away), going for pizza, usually with other friends along, at Merlo's in Mundys Corner, and I believe once or twice at the Cottage or Penn Gables (but those were"too rich for our blood"). Then someone told Bill about Gizelle's Pizza in Wilmore, and from our first visit there it was our favorite place for pizza (it moved to Portage shortly after we discovered it). Even after I moved away from the Valley we would try to make a trip to Gizelle's any time I was "back home." We also once went to Erculiani's gourmet restaurant in Gallitzin, and as Mary Lou Ciprich Ford reminded me a few days ago, also went to Johnny Garneau's Smorgasbord in Murrysville or Monroeville. These two upscale establishments were probably birthday outings for one of the members in our group, for which we saved up for a while.

Just when I was turning 20, I succeeded Andy Rogalski as the lead reporter for the Nanty Glo Journal, and within a couple of months I was appointed its third editor. I was at the time also a fulltime student at Johnstown Pitt. Bill succeeded me in the job when I left three years later for a ministry-related editing job at a weekly paper in New Jersey combined with seminary studies in Philadelphia, and although I wasn't sure he was up to the task (not having a higher education in journalism or writing) Bill met the challenge and has become a legend in Nanty Glo's history as the longest-ever Journal bureau chief.

The most memorable birthday present I ever got, at least in my single years before having my own family, was also something I got from Bill. He and Kitty had a little party for me in the early years of our friendship, and my surprise gift was a whole case of Sun Drop, with each bottle separately wrapped.

The other articles have majored on Bill's contributions to the community through the paper and the Historical-Museum Society, but this is mostly my thanks for his contributions to my life. It was an honor to call him friend. Rest in peace; memory eternal.

—Webmaster Jon Kennedy

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