So the Barn remains, as do the Taste Freeze shops and the eerie black and white cabin that sets next to the road before the assent onto the Pleasantville Mountain. The winding, serpentine twists of that all-too familiar roadway, still without guardrails, climbs ever to the top of the mountain, weather “pleasant” or not. Also whizzing by were the never-ending and neatly stacked wide irrigation pipes that set beside the road. When I was a child, my parents would pull off the road and I used to crawl through them with my brother Tim. Almost 40 years have gone by and the pipes still remain. My brother Tim however, is still conspicuously missing from the curio cabinet. The only sign of my brother that remains in Western Pennsylvania, is his son (not surprisingly, also named Tim). This visit is about all of these things and all of the memories, but mostly it was about Tim.
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