THE PHILADELPHIA JUNTO.

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The PJ depends on reader support. Please help us by contributing financially to Philabooks@yahoo.com via PayPal, or by contributing editorial content via WritersClearinghouse.yahoo.com.| Established 1976 Richard Carreño, Editor © MMXXV WritersClearinghouse All Rights Reserved.

SAM YELLIN

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Sat, 17 Jan 2026 20:06:00 +0000

PHILADELPHIA'S WORLD RENOWN ...

Front door, northeast side of Rittenhouse Square

...ARTISAN IRON WORKER

BATHING BEAUTY AT THE BARNES

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Thu, 15 Jan 2026 20:00:00 +0000

Sculpture, right, in main entrance

THE GHOST OF DR. BARNES

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Thu, 15 Jan 2026 19:55:00 +0000

Old Barnes Foundation in Lower Merion, Pennsylvania

I yesterday visited the old Barnes Foundation (since moved to Center City, Philadelphia), now converted the Frances M. Maguire Art Museum at St. Joseph's University. I was single visitor.

Eerie. The conversion prompted many memories. Old bones. Old ghosts.

—R.D.C.

R.I.P.: Maria Elena Carreño de Granados (June 11, 1983)

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Tue, 13 Jan 2026 18:57:00 +0000

From left, Nena, Papa, and grandson

It is right that we pause, reflect as we gather here today, from the youngest to the oldest, spanning three generations, to honor our debt to the one who preceded us. We come as sons, daughters, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren to remember the blessings that were bestowed upon us by a woman who was our Nena. Though she touched our lives in different ways, Nena represented an unswerving constant that guided us all -- generation by generation, in this country or as we traveled elsewhere.

In times of trial -- who among us was not consoled by Nena's assurance that all would turn out for the best? -- and in times of crisis, Nena led by her unquestioning faith in us, her power over us -- and why today we know that we will be adrift unless the lessons she taught are not preserved and passed on to our children and their children.

Nena was a simple woman -- with simple ways. Nena spoke of a simpler time, life presented few complexities. "There's good in everything," she would say. More often than not, she was right. She believed in heroes -- she voted for Eisenhower over Stevenson.

Nena believed in honorable things -- excellence, virtue, duty, love -- when many around us no longer held these things dear. We were imperfect in meeting her challenge. But the truth of her lessons established our understanding of integrity and purpose. We set out to meet the test.

It is unfashionable to hold these truths, to hold faith to values that seem to have lost currency in our turbulent age. Uplifted by her devotion to our Lord, Jesus Christ, Nena never suffered doubt. Her conviction flowed to us.

And, thus, Nena was all powerful. Nena urged not by stern admonishments, reprimand, or threat. She led by example. We strived for success because we did not want to disappoint. We strived for success because we knew that anything else would reflect on us all, Nena taught us the weighty lesson that few others learn. That as a family -- albeit far-flung, disparate, and fragile -- we are yet one.

Nena taught us virtue in her belief in goodness and decency.

Nena taught us duty by her devotion to Papa and the family they reared.

Nena taught us love by her attention to even our smallest plans.

Nena nurtured us when we were young and growing. She bathed us in adulation for our most callow accomplishments. She was warm, familiar, trusting == and she played no favorites. We were all equal in her eyes.

By these things, Nena taught us that we were something special, in a special place with special obligations.

I remember evenings of night school as Papa and Nena readied themselves to take their place proudly as Americans in grateful recognition of the fruits and prosperity endowed to us by this wonderful land.

I remember the instant affection and respect that Nena generated from others.

I remember eating porridge -- I hate porridge. I hated it then and I hate it now -- at Nena's urging so that I would cause her no suffering. Nena would truly suffer if she considered us undernourished.

Most of all, I remember a woman who gave us all the strength and will to attempt the very best. Even in failure, we succeeded -- as long as we were true to the ideals she set before us.

Now, as we renew our commitment to these ideals, we continue to render our best because of Nena's unfailing faith that excellence would be rendered.

That is Nena's legacy. This today becomes our mission as we transfer Nena's standard to our children.

R.I.P. : DON MERLOT

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Mon, 01 Dec 2025 00:23:00 +0000

Ron Alonzo

Ron Alonzo

De Gustibus non est disputandum

To us at The PJ, he was "Don Merlot," our resident epicure. For several years, Don sliced and diced — and uncorked — the best of dining for the blog. He reminisced. He mused. He longed for other times. And, from his base in New Orleans, he also unraveled the international intrigue of cuisine, bringing personal experience and erudition to his critique. (He was a member of Confrerie des Chevaliers du Tastevin). Readers admired Don's ability to link a palate, developed over more than fifty years in Europe and in North and South America, to modern tastes.

Don/Ron was also friend.

We will sorely miss him!

By Rod Alonzo

We lost my father, Ronald Thomas Alonzo Ratcliff, earlier this week after a very brief illness. All who knew him are reflecting on the joy he brought to their lives. He grew up in Mexico City whose rich mosaic of culture infused his sense of music, food, and history and whetted his appetite for further adventures.

Both of his parents (Alice Ratcliff and Rosendo Alonzo) grew up in Topeka, Kansas and, as a result, he grew up with a cosmopolitan sense of the city along with a breadbasket vibe of the Midwest. Having an Anglo mother and a Mexican father created a lifelong dialogue about identity.

Our houses were always decorated with Aztec calendars and sarapes (even though he was half Scottish). When he was fourteen, his parents sent him to Staunton Military School in Virginia. His history teachers captured his imagination and inspired him to learn more about the wider world.

While attending Staunton he met Pierre Rufin who eventually introduced him to his sister, Denise Rufin Alonzo, and fireworks ensued. Ron went on to attend Tulane and Thunderbird. He began working at Humble and then moved on to Whirlpool, Kohler, and Jet Spray. His work enabled him to realize his persistent dream of traveling the world. His great mentor, Ralph Carreno, encouraged him to learn about French cuisine and wine in order to facilitate their business ventures. Over the years he visited many places and met many people. Wherever he went, the pattern was the same, he would immerse himself in the food, music, and history of his latest destination. Upon his return, he took great pleasure in sharing all of his discoveries with friends and family. A classic example of this occurred after his early visits to China.

Henceforward we were frequently treated to a dish called Ants Climbing a Tree which consisted on spicy pork and ginger clinging to cellophane rice noodles. My dad had many dishes that he made over and over. We were always having people over and he loved nothing better than cooking a meal and discussing current events with his guests.

He provided his family with rich experiences as well. Traveling and experiencing international culture was the norm. Looking back on it, cooking and photography were my father's enduring means of expression. It was all part of his epic adventure. Although my father didn't play an instrument, music was a deep passion. As I grew up there was always music playing at full volume. The selections ranged from Alfredo Jimenez to Dixieland to Jaques Brel to Ravel's Bolero to Beethoven. Perhaps his deepest passion was for classical guitar. Segovia, Christopher Parkening, and John Williams were on heavy rotation.

He was a provider, a charmer, a scholar, and very loyal to his family. It is stunning to think that his travels on this plain have ended. His ever-present drive to have that next great meal or listen to that moving song definitely inspired those who spent any time with him. Fuerte abrazo, Papa

Rod Alonzo, a musician and writer, Ron's son, lives in New York.

OLIVIA NUZZI: WIND IN YOUR HAIR

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Mon, 24 Nov 2025 22:30:00 +0000

Round-About with the Arts

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Sun, 23 Nov 2025 22:07:00 +0000

VIDEO: Jumping Jehovah! It's Jean

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Sun, 23 Nov 2025 19:12:00 +0000

JEAN SEBERG

VIDEO: The Cat

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Sun, 19 Oct 2025 18:05:00 +0000

VIDEO: The Flower

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Sun, 19 Oct 2025 18:05:00 +0000

VIDEO: The Editor

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Wed, 15 Oct 2025 17:09:00 +0000

Scribble, scribble....

VIDEO: TWINS

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Wed, 15 Oct 2025 17:04:00 +0000

Laughing Out Loud....

Authors: Joseph Alsop

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Fri, 10 Oct 2025 17:14:00 +0000

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Thu, 09 Oct 2025 22:15:00 +0000

JOHN G. JOHNSON, ESQ., R.I.P.

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Thu, 09 Oct 2025 17:26:00 +0000

Walnut Street. Across from Washington Square Park.

Prodigious art collector, creating the John G. Johnson Collection at the Philadelphia Art Museum.

GALLERY: USPS

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Wed, 08 Oct 2025 19:35:00 +0000

LETTER BOX FROM 1948

SLOT STILL OPENS...

... DOUBT THAT YOU'D WANT TO DEPOSIT A LETTER

GALLERY: LIT'RY MURALS

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Wed, 08 Oct 2025 19:24:00 +0000

STYLE: AIR CANADA FASHION

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Tue, 07 Oct 2025 20:26:00 +0000

STEWS

From "Coffee, Tea, or Me" to "Me 2"

(Open Link Below)

: https://www.aircanada.com/media/in-our-stylish-eras-a-history-in-air-canada-fashion/

Gallery

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Sat, 04 Oct 2025 18:20:00 +0000

THE ARTS

GALLERY

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Thu, 02 Oct 2025 17:33:00 +0000

A EYE II

GALLERY

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Thu, 02 Oct 2025 17:20:00 +0000

A EYE I

A Worker's Missing Parachute

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Sat, 13 Sep 2025 20:19:00 +0000

SEARCHING FOR THE RIPCORD

By Atlas Reed

Invisible Labor: Service, Sacrifice, and Survival in America’s Workforce

From Military Contractors to Everyday Workers—The Cost of a Broken Safety Net

In early September 2025 I sold my car near a U.S. base in western

Germany. On its own, that’s an ordinary task. But for me, it marked

the final logistical hurdle in a high-stakes exit process triggered by

something far more disruptive: I was laid off in July, after more than

five years supporting U.S. military operations in Europe.

I worked at separate U.S. military command centers in Europe over the

past five years. In both roles, I supported critical military

operations—quietly, consistently, and professionally. And yet, when my

contract ended, I was given 60 days to uproot my life, or lose

employer-paid repatriation. I had 90 days to legally remain in

Germany.

There was no formal off-ramp. No transition plan. No safety net. Just

a deadline and the growing realization that I was now navigating

international bureaucracy completely alone, like many who work

overseas without family support

Every logistical step—canceling phone service, forwarding mail,

closing bank accounts—had to be precisely timed to avoid penalties,

delays, or legal gaps. I kept my car until the last possible week,

because it was my only means of completing the dozens of in-person

tasks required to legally and logistically exit the country.

And amid all this, I was forced to start applying for jobs

immediately. In the U.S., unemployment benefits require you to submit

job applications every week—regardless of whether you’re physically,

emotionally, or logistically in a position to do so. Apply, or lose

your income. There's no room to be thoughtful or strategic. You're

expected to search frantically while dismantling your life.

Worse, my CAC (Common Access Card) expired the moment I was laid off.

Without it, I could no longer access the base—even though I still had

paperwork to complete, including the vehicle de-registration and

customs processing required to finalize the car sale. No CAC, no

access. No access, no legal closure.

I was stuck in a Catch-22: I needed a CAC to finish my exit. I needed

a job to get a CAC. I had neither.

A single piece of plastic—a badge—determined whether I was treated

like a professional or a liability. It was as if years of service

evaporated the moment the barcode stopped scanning.

Sure, I could ask someone to help me. But that misses the point. After

two decades supporting military operations as both a direct-hire

federal civilian and a contractor, I shouldn’t have to depend on

personal favors just to leave a country legally. I’ve deployed. I’ve

supported warfighters from command centers and from austere

environments. I’ve never worn the uniform, but I’ve stood beside those

who have. Yet the moment I became “non-essential,” I was invisible.

Most people don’t talk about this. They’re afraid to seem bitter or

burn bridges. So we keep quiet, patch together our next contract, and

pretend this level of instability is normal.

It’s not just the paperwork or deadlines that wear you down. It’s the

loss of dignity. In the U.S., job loss often means health loss. Unless

you can afford COBRA—which can easily cost $600 to $900 per

month—you’re simply uninsured. For comparison, in Germany, healthcare

is not tied to employment. Losing your job doesn’t mean losing access

to care.

A friend of mine—employed in the German economy—was laid off around

the same time. He received unemployment benefits equal to 60% of his

prior salary, plus full medical coverage, and the space to

recalibrate. It wasn’t luxurious. But it wasn’t punishing. The system

is designed to prevent collapse.

The American system, by contrast, stacks instability on top of

instability: no paycheck, no health insurance, minimal support—and all

of it conditional. You’re expected to bounce back immediately or be

labeled lazy. It’s not just inefficient. It’s inhumane.

But that cruelty isn’t accidental. It serves a purpose. When

healthcare, housing, and basic survival are tied to employment, people

are less likely to push back or walk away from toxic jobs. The system

creates dependency—not resilience. It keeps people hustling,

compliant, exhausted.

And this disparity extends deep into the federal workforce. Government

civilians get paid leave, sick time, fitness hours, and job

protections. Contractors get none of it. I’ve seen coworkers show up

sick—during a global pandemic—because missing work meant missing pay.

There are two truly privileged classes in the United States: the

wealthy and military professionals. Everyone else is largely left to

fend for themselves—whether thriving or suffering, the government

seems indifferent.

Meanwhile, some military retirees—rightfully entitled to full

disability benefits—can still work overseas in six-figure contracting

jobs. Between disability pay, tax-free income, housing allowances, and

job salaries, their income can easily exceed $200,000 annually.

Meanwhile, disabled civilians must choose between earning a living and

keeping their benefits, thanks to punitive income caps under Social

Security. The message is clear: certain forms of service are honored.

Others are forgotten.

I’ve spent years as a volunteer firefighter and EMT, and every

September 11, I hear the same refrain: “thank you for your service.”

And while I appreciate the sentiment, I’ve come to see how narrowly we

define the word “service.” It's often reserved for those in uniform or

those in visible crisis roles, but rarely extended to the people who

provide essential services that keep society functioning—like

sanitation workers, home health aides, teachers, grocery clerks, and

line cooks. During 9/11, firefighters and first responders were

rightfully elevated as symbols of courage—but many others served

quietly, without glory, and continue to do so every day. If we truly

want to honor service, we must expand our gratitude beyond the

symbolic and into the everyday. Because the humblest of all jobs

deserves respect.

Like many highly credentialed professionals, I’ve spent decades

building expertise, serving in critical roles overseas. I’ve been

financially responsible. And even I barely managed this transition.

That should terrify people. Because if someone like me—educated,

employed, child-free, financially literate—can be dropped into

bureaucratic chaos with no safety net, what happens to people with

fewer resources? What happens to families?

There’s no off-ramp. No transitional guidance. No acknowledgment. One

day, you’re part of the mission. The next, you’re erased. The emails

stop. The CAC fails. The people you worked with for years move on like

you never existed. It’s not just a logistical failure—it’s a

psychological one.

And this isn’t new. During the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, I watched

contractors die in service without being counted in official numbers.

No medals. No honors. No public mourning. Just... disappearance.

Contractors coordinate operations, run logistics, analyze

intelligence. We’re essential. But we’re treated as expendable.

When I say “the system,” I mean the tangled web of federal

contracting, employment law, health insurance policy, and clearance

access. It’s a system built for continuity of operations, not

continuity of care. And once you’re no longer operationally useful,

you’re on your own.

What Needs to Change

To prevent others from falling through these same cracks, we need

meaningful structural reforms. These are not radical ideas—they’re

basic protections for those who serve:

1. Transitional Access for Out-Processing

Provide a minimum 60-day grace period post-employment for former

contractors to retain CAC access strictly for out-processing and legal

requirements. This ensures people can leave legally and with dignity.

2. Healthcare Decoupled from Employment

Implement a national healthcare policy that guarantees baseline

medical coverage regardless of employment status—modeled after systems

in Germany, the Netherlands, or the ACA's public option vision.

3. Fair and Portable Unemployment Benefits

Reform unemployment requirements to allow for intentional job searches

during major life transitions. Include temporary waivers for weekly

application quotas during verified international moves or layoffs from

overseas posts.

4. Contractor Transition Support

Create formal off-ramps for U.S. government contractors: exit

briefings, relocation assistance, transitional pay coverage, and

access to repatriation funds through federal contractor support

offices.

5. Parity in Disability Protections

Reform Social Security Disability rules to allow Americans with

disabilities the same opportunity to earn a living as their military

counterparts—without punitive income caps or benefit cuts.

Some will say, “You made your choice.” But that’s a convenient

oversimplification. Hardworking people—regardless of employment

type—deserve dignity, stability, and support when they fall.

Government’s role isn’t just defending borders. It’s protecting people

from insecurity: food insecurity, housing insecurity, healthcare

insecurity. That is national security.

The cost of being poor in America is a kind of tax: you pay more in

overdraft fees, in higher interest, in worse outcomes. And once you

fall behind, it’s nearly impossible to catch up.

I eventually finalized the car sale. But it took creativity,

persistence, and luck.

And that’s the problem.

You shouldn’t need luck to leave a country legally after serving it.

This experience reminded me how fragile our systems are—but also how

resilient people can be. I’ve weathered deployments, relocations, and

transitions before. I’ll get through this one, too.

But I’m telling this story not just for me.

I’m telling it for everyone who comes next.

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Tue, 01 Jul 2025 17:23:00 +0000

Hidden in Plain Sight:

A Walk-Through Jewish Kaiserslautern

By Justin T. Carreño

While exploring the city I now call home, Kaiserslautern, I came across several Jewish heritage or cultural sites—none of them marked by large plaques or interpretive signs, but all clearly maintained with intention. The Jewish cemetery is identified only by a discreet sign behind a hedge. At first glance, I nearly missed it. But once noticed, its quiet presence is obvious.

Photos by Justin T. Carreño

/WritersClearinghouse

This approach—subtle, almost hidden—is not the result of neglect, however. It reflects a deliberate balance between visibility and caution. In a time when antisemitism continues to be a concern across Europe, a lower profile can offer a degree of safety without erasing the past.

In fact, disturbingly, in Kaiserslautern in May 2025, stolpersteine (stumbling blocks) were vandalized, being torn out of the ground and stolen. Stolpelsteine are small brass memorial plaques in sidewalks in front of the last freely chosen places of residence of victims of Nazism. They commemorate people who were persecuted, murdered, deported, expelled or driven to suicide during the Nazi era. Authorities still don't know who the vandals were, and don't know if the crime was driven by antisemitism or anti-Israeli sentiments.

In addition to Germany’s broader political climate—including resurgent far-right parties like AfD—shaping how openly Jewish history is preserved and presented, history and culture are also factors. The city had a smaller prewar Jewish population, and much of its historical infrastructure—including the synagogue—was destroyed during WWII. Unlike cities with large, continuous Jewish communities or strong heritage tourism, Kaiserslautern developed around military and industrial functions, shaping a quieter approach to remembrance. While nearby rural areas may lean conservative, the city itself maintains a respectful, if understated, memory culture—marked by preserved historical sites, memorials, and educational initiatives.

I noticed the same intentional quiet at Hilde-Mattauch-Platz, a small square named for Hilde Mattauch, a Jewish opera singer from Kaiserslautern. After building a promising career in Germany, she was forced to emigrate due to Nazi persecution. She lived in England, then Argentina, where she continued performing and touring. Despite the upheaval, she returned briefly to Kaiserslautern in the 1950s to give concerts. The square named in her honor reflects not only her artistic legacy but also a life marked by resilience and displacement.

The Jewish cultural center was probably the most understated. I only recognized it after passing by several times—its only visible sign being a small menorah in the window. There’s no nameplate, no external marker. But the meaning is clear once seen: it’s a functioning, lived-in space for community life, maintained with discretion for understandable reasons. (In fact, the police are regularly stationed outside of the building).

Another quiet discovery lies beneath the surface—literally. In 1995, during construction work in the city center, archaeologists uncovered the remains of a 14th-century mikveh, a ritual Jewish bath. Hidden for centuries, the site had been buried and forgotten, yet its stones were remarkably well-preserved. Today, it’s viewable through a small glass panel in the pavement—easy to miss unless you're looking for it. There’s a discreet plaque nearby, but no elaborate display. Still, the presence of the mikveh offers a glimpse into a once-vibrant medieval Jewish community in Kaiserslautern, long vanished but not erased. Like so many markers of Jewish life here, it’s a quiet thread in the city’s fabric—a reminder that Jewish history was, and still is, part of this place.

These discoveries demonstrate that remembrance here is not absent—it’s simply quiet, careful, and deliberate. The design of these spaces reflects a thoughtful response to historical memory and present-day realities. In Kaiserslautern, remembrance is integrated into the fabric of the city, not through grand gestures, but through quiet continuity.

The Bookshelf: Now on Offer from Philabooks|Booksellers

noreply@blogger.com (The PJ) — Thu, 19 Jun 2025 21:31:00 +0000

THE PHILADELPHIA JUNTO.

Booksrun (Advertisement)

***************SAM YELLIN***************

BATHING BEAUTY AT THE BARNES

THE GHOST OF DR. BARNES

R.I.P.: Maria Elena Carreño de Granados (June 11, 1983)

R.I.P. : DON MERLOT

OLIVIA NUZZI: WIND IN YOUR HAIR

Round-About with the Arts

VIDEO: Jumping Jehovah! It's Jean

JEAN SEBERG

VIDEO: The Cat

VIDEO: The Flower

VIDEO: The Editor

VIDEO: TWINS

Authors: Joseph Alsop

JOHN G. JOHNSON, ESQ., R.I.P.

GALLERY: USPS

GALLERY: LIT'RY MURALS

STYLE: AIR CANADA FASHION

Gallery

GALLERY

GALLERY

A Worker's Missing Parachute

SEARCHING FOR THE RIPCORD

Hidden in Plain Sight:

A Walk-Through Jewish Kaiserslautern

The Bookshelf: Now on Offer from Philabooks|Booksellers

SAM YELLIN