Coach 'Gamp' Pellegrini was like a second father

I read with deep sadness of the death of Gaspare "Gamp" Pellegrini, Malvern Prep's legendary football coach ("Malvern's 'Gamp' Pellegrini dies at 79," Saturday). My son, Joseph, was a manager for Gamp for four years.
In 1973, when Joe was 8, he was almost killed in a horrific auto accident.

Joe loved football. After a miraculous recovery, Joe was able to go to Malvern Prep in 1980. On the first day of football practice, he went up to Coach Pellegrini and asked whether he could be a team manager.

Gamp said, "Sure," and a special bond was formed. Gamp became like a second father to Joe, and the 1980 team posted a 10-0 record, winning the Inter-Academic League championship.

Joe spent four of the best years of his life at Malvern Prep with Pellegrini — a caring, loving, down-to-earth, one-of-a-kind coach and gentleman.

My family is deeply indebted to Coach Pellegrini. We shall always be grateful for what he did and meant to Joe.

— Kenneth S. Mugler, Buckingham, kenpatmuggins@gmail.com

My father, Sol Kessler, was a no-nonsense guy. He came to America on the USS Susquehanna in 1920 at the age of 15. He spoke no English when he arrived. Ten years later, he owned a deli in Kensington. He and my mother ran a successful business for 43 years.

He was fluent in Russian, Polish, and German as well as English and Yiddish. He survived a holdup and a thug's gunshot.
My dad was not interested in baseball or any other professional sport. He used a lovely Yiddish word to describe the national pastime: narishkeit, or foolishness.

I became a baseball fan at an early age. In the mid-1940s, I asked my dad to buy me a glove.
Baseball was an intrinsic part of growing up in America — or so I thought. I can't explain how I bonded with Phil Cavarretta. Maybe, it was the mellifluous sound of his name. Cavarretta played first base for the Chicago Cubs and was a four-time all-star, batting .355 in 1945, when he was the National League MVP.

One April Day, my father said, "I have to go into town. Come with me." We took the El to Fifth and Market Streets. He took me into Passon's Sporting Goods. There were dozens of new baseball gloves. I selected a Phil Cavarretta first-baseman's mitt. His signature was embossed on the pocket.

As we left the store, I thanked my dad. He asked, "What can you tell me about Phil Cavarretta?"
I expounded on Cavarretta's stellar career. My dad's response was, "I have two words for you: Hank Greenberg," referring to the Detroit Tigers slugger.

It was a memorable day. I miss him.

— Hal Kessler, Elkins Park

It is wonderful that Philadelphia is honoring composer Marc Blitzstein ("Finally making his mark," Tuesday). I would like to add a footnote.

From 1942 to '45, Blitzstein was attached to the Army Air Force. It was during this time that he decided to write a "big symphony" about flight. In 1946, his completed work, Symphony — The Airborne, premiered. It was conducted and recorded by his good friend, Leonard Bernstein.

This is a powerful work for narrator, soloists, choirs, and orchestra. I wish it could be played by the Philadelphia Orchestra, especially at our July 4th celebration. We old Air Force men and others would really enjoy hearing Blitzstein's stirring symphony.

— George Rubin, Medford, g.rubin64@gmail.com

Am I the only one who noticed the straight-right-arm salute to the flag in Currents last Sunday ("Stitching together facts for flag's banner day")?

I'm a baby boomer who grew up thinking the straight-right-arm salute in a 1940s assembly meant something quite different than that shown in the "early 1940s" image at Benjamin Franklin High School, attended by 12,000 city students. Obviously the salute was something not frowned upon by U.S. citizens back then.

I found that the salute was named after Francis J. Bellamy, who wrote the Pledge of Allegiance in 1892 and provided detailed rules on addressing the flag. Students were directed to stand and face the flag, then to make a military salute and to recite the pledge. At the words, "to my Flag," they were to extend the right hand "gracefully, palm upward, toward the Flag, and remain in this gesture till the end of the affirmation; whereupon all hands immediately drop to the side," according to The Youth's Companion publication.

Because of the similarity to the Nazi salute, the Bellamy salute was officially replaced by the hand-over-the-heart salute on Dec. 22, 1942.

— Art Wolk, Voorhees