I Remember

If only it were a lot bigger, Glenville, N.C., circa 1950, could have been considered a small country town."Stoplights?" echoed Orioles manager Johnny Oates, Glenville's most famous hometown boy. "Why would we need stoplights? There weren't any intersections."A Gulf station, a Shell station, an Esso station and, he thinks, a Phillips 66, "up on the top of the hill.""Anything you needed, you got at one of the filling stations," he said. "That's where we got all of our groceries. My dad would bring the corn in and have it ground into cornmeal."

Sometime today, I'll call my mother to wish her a happ Mother's Day and after a few seconds she'll say: "Are you still using Sweet 'N Low?"Then she'll go on and on about saccharin, how they even admit it's a carcinogen on the back of the little pink packets and how scientists feed this stuff to white mice in these research laboratories and the mice literally keel over on their treadmills, convulsing in the most agonizing death throes before winding up...

New York -- Maybe it has to do with Carrie Fisher's not-so-repressed wish to have a session with her psychoanalyst, or maybe it's because after four days of talking to reporters she's just plain tired. Whatever the reason, Carrie Fisher is conducting an interview from a semi-reclining position in her suite at the posh St. Regis Hotel."The other day I got on the elevator here and I pushed 16 because that's the floor my shrink is on," says Ms. Fisher, visibly amused at the sly way her unconscious expressed itself.

Years from now, what will we remember about the Orioles' 6-3 Opening Day win over Kansas City here yesterday?Will it be Mike Mussina's brilliant two-hit pitching for eight innings?Will it be Rafael Palmiero's sixth-inning home run in his first regular-season game with the Orioles? (He also hit one in the exhibition game here Saturday.)Will we remember Mike Devereaux, coming off a sub-par year, homering in his first at-bat of '94?Honest answer: I probably won't remember a thing.If I do, it will probably be something dumb like Pete Angelos and Tom Clancy throwing out the first ball and bouncing it to catcher Chris Hoiles -- after Don Schaefer had tossed it the full 60 feet, 6 inches.

When I remember now the love we shared,The tenderness with which we used to reachone another when the moment flaredInto a passion that consumed us each;When I remember all the sweet concernThat sheltered us from angry wind and storm,The loyalty that steadfastly did burnTo keep our hearts and spirits ever-warm;When I remember all of this, it seemsLike some hallucination I have framedThat has the essence of dim, distant dreamsWhere all that was is nothing as...

An article in last Sunday's Sun about former schoolteacher John Merzbacher might have been interpreted as implying that Derek Rosenbach is among the former Merzbacher students who were alleged victims of sexual abuse. In fact, Mr. Rosenbach is not.The Sun regrets the error.John Merzbacher -- the former teacher charged with raping and molesting at least 10 students at Catholic Community Middle School during the 1970s -- claimed other victims a decade earlier at an East Baltimore public school, two of his former students said yesterday.

Don't assume that the closing of the Charles Theater is just another example of today's crowded multiplex-at-the-mall movie environment squeezing out small theaters. To our readers, the Charles' closing is like losing a friend.All 16 callers to our Sundial poll expressed regret at the closing and shared some of their memories of the quirky art theater."I used to like the semi-cryptic birthday messages that the Charles would leave on its marquee," said Bob Beal. "My most vivid memory of the Charles was the night Stevie Ray Vaughan died in a plane crash."

AS AN American Jew who lost no immediate relatives in the Holocaust, but who tried in the 1930s -- without much success -- to offer haven and compassion to its victims, I experienced a particularly painful recollection during my recent visit to the Holocaust Museum in Washington.The museum recreates all but one horror of that terrible time.Its exhibits scream that the world must never again allow millions of innocents to be systematically destroyed and that never again can a sane person pay any attention to a skinhead or airhead who says it never happened.

SAN ANTONIO -- Ryan Sittler was thinking -- daydreaming, really -- about how exciting it would be if the Flyers selected him in the 1992 NHL draft. The Flyers had the seventh pick and Sittler, a hot-shot high school player, was on the board."

I'll never forget that glorious childhood summer we all spent at Camp . . . well, the name of the camp escapes me now.We rode up one fine morning in the back of my parent's station wagon. Or maybe it was a big yellow school bus rented by the camp.Anyway, we rode for miles and miles on this one road, and then got on this other road, and then one more road, I think. I seem to recall some trees.That first day at camp was so exciting.As soon as we got there, some big guy came out and said a few words.