Most students of modern American history are aware of
the place Titusville holds in the industrial heritage of
our country. A new technological world was created when oil was discovered
at the Drake Well in 1859.
When JD Rockerfellerıs vision of a distribution system was complete,
The Standard Oil Company was born. The long range impact of the oil
industry on our society will be debated for generations; the following
story is what Titusville means to me and why we chose it for the name
of our publishing company.
When I was eight, I heard my parents talking about going to visit Uncle Rudy
and Aunt Rose at their camp in Titusville. To me it sounded like an exotic place
like some of the stories that I'd read about in school, Nome or
Nova Scotia. The road to Titusville was a two lane rural highway where a
downed tree can cause a major traffic delay. In the spring, oak, pine,
magnolia and maple trees line the banks of a creek as it winds back and forth along
the highway. Nowhere is it more apparent that the world is totally alive and full of
amazing possibilities. Arriving in Titusville, the final road to Uncle Rudy's camp
is a one lane dirt road that weaves through high grass and sits at the edge of the
Allegheny National Forest.
The only remaining sign of the industrial age is the eternal oil lamb that lights the
night sky on the back porch of Uncle Rudy's cabin. It's an orange, yellow light and
serves to keep mosquitoes away and provide a row of torches that light the way up a
small hill to a spring fed pond. Here I would learn how to fish. How to bait a hook,
how to cast a line, tie a hook, learn how to tie a blood knot, a slip knot, a horseshoe
knot. My teachers were my dad, my Uncle Rudy and the master fisherman among us, my Uncle
Louie.
The morning began at four AM with a command to "..get up and go fishin'!" from Uncle Rudy.
Dressing as quickly as possible, I went outside to experience my first sunrise. The smell
of breakfast brought me back inside where my mom and Aunt Rose cooked and talked and laughed.
We set off to the Allegheny River for a day of bass fishing. The rocks that line the Allegheny
are huge limestone boulders that are big enough for several people to comfortably sit on. The river
is fast but not very deep and a number of people use waders to stand in the middle of the river.
A man and a woman cast quietly just a hundred yards from our position. I cast my first line and
wait patiently for a fish to bite. The first tug is not at all what I excepted. My arms feel
like they are being pulled into the water. I struggle as the fish swims down under a rock. My Uncle Louie
walks over to help. He guides the fish out from its hiding place and breaks into a huge grin as
the fish is pulled in. It seems my first catch is a half-worn bicycle tire.
The rest of the week was spent with better success. I caught my first bass, along with a red-tail sucker,
a catfish and several rock bass. Titusville had become a permanent part of my memory and a constant
source of my dreams. When I began to plan the creation of a publishing company, there was never
any question as to what the name would be. Titusville Publishing is dedicated to bringing the
best of independent music, art and literature to the our technological world.
