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Wilkes-Barre City Hall workers assist with mask repair

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AP sources: MLB, union discuss playing all games in Arizona

PLAINS TWP. &mdash; In the year 2000, one year before 9/11 and 20 years before COVID-19, I traveled to Europe &mdash; something I always wanted to do.
				And I carefully planned the trip because there were places I wanted to visit. I spent four days in England, four days in France and four days in Italy. It was an amazing trip.
				In England I saw Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, London Bridge and more. I watched a Shakespeare play in the re-built Globe Theater. And I learned that English beer is pretty darn good &mdash; Old Speckled Hen was my favorite.
				In Italy, I visited Florence and stood in awe of Michelangelo&rsquo;s Statue of David, which he sculpted when he was 19 years old. Let&rsquo;s just say my 19th year did not produce such artistic masterpieces.
				I visited the Roman Coliseum and other ancient ruins, and stood in amazement of the Sistine Chapel, again marveling at Michelangelo&rsquo;s work. I also got to see and hear Pope John Paul II deliver a speech in Vatican Square.
				After the speech, I walked through the Pope&rsquo;s Holy Doors of St. Peter&rsquo;s Basilica. The doors to the far right are bricked and mortared shut, opened every 25 years for the Pope&rsquo;s Jubilee. The year 2000 was one of those years. The legend is that if you enter St. Peter&rsquo;s through the Pope&rsquo;s Holy Doors, and you touch the cross on the door with your left hand and bless yourself, you are granted total forgiveness.
				So I got that going for me &mdash; nice!
				But it was Paris that meant the most to me. I had to go to The Louvre for a very personal reason.
				My hometown of Plymouth was a great place in the 1950s and 1960s, but it wasn&rsquo;t exactly an eclectic, artsy community. I mean, Old Shawnee was a hotbed for athletics and had its share of celebratory institutions honoring the fine blending of hops and barley, but I can&rsquo;t recall an art museum.
				The closest Plymouth came to that was a mural inside the old post office. That artistic vision is still there for everyone to admire as they buy rolls of stamps.
				But just because it wasn&rsquo;t the Left Bank doesn&rsquo;t mean the residents lacked appreciation.
				My mother &mdash; Elizabeth Kraszewski O&rsquo;Boyle &mdash; had an appreciation for life and people, and she loved art. Her dream was to one day stand face-to-face with the Mona Lisa &mdash; Leonardo da Vinci&rsquo;s masterpiece that hangs in the Louvre.
				Mom never got to see the Mona Lisa. She died in 1968, at the age of 42. I often think about how many other &ldquo;bucket-list items&rdquo; she never had time to scratch off her list.
				So in 2000 &mdash; 32 years after my mom died &mdash; I was on a trip she would have absolutely savored.
				As I walked through one gallery into another, we finally reached the room where Mona Lisa was displayed.
				That&rsquo;s when I choked up a bit and realized that I was about to stare into the eyes of the world&rsquo;s most famous painting. But I was not going to view this lovely lady alone. I was going to look at the Mona Lisa through the eyes of my mother.
				On that September day, Elizabeth Kraszewski O&rsquo;Boyle finally got to see her favorite painting.
				It was more than emotional for me. It was an experience that I didn&rsquo;t want to end. I wanted my mom to be there and in many ways, through my DNA and my faith, she was.

Coping with Corona: And there was Mona