Milton Hershey

 

Milton Hershey knew failure intimately. His first candy business in Philadelphia collapsed. His second attempt in New York ended the same way. At 30, he was broke, drowning in debt, and sleeping in his childhood bedroom in rural Pennsylvania.

Most people would have surrendered to defeat. Milton reached for one more chance.

By 1900, that chance had transformed into the Hershey Chocolate Company—a fortune-generating empire that made him millions. He didn't just build a factory; he built an entire town. Hershey, Pennsylvania, rose from the ground with homes, parks, and trolley lines, all for his workers. He married Catherine "Kitty" Sweeney, his soulmate, and together they constructed a mansion overlooking their chocolate kingdom.

They possessed everything money could buy. Everything except the one treasure they wanted most: children.

Kitty couldn't have biological children. In 1909, when adoption among wealthy families was virtually unheard of, the Hersheys faced a crossroads: live in comfortable emptiness, or do something nobody expected.

They chose the unexpected.

Milton and Kitty founded the Hershey Industrial School—not a distant charity that wrote checks, but a real home for orphaned boys with nowhere else to turn. They started with four boys. Milton and Kitty interviewed each one personally, ensuring they felt chosen, not pitied.

These boys weren't charity cases. They lived in homesteads with house parents, learned valuable trades, attended quality classes, and—most importantly—were given dignity and unconditional love.

Kitty devoted herself completely to the school. She memorized names, asked about dreams, visited constantly. These were her children, the ones biology denied her but love provided.

When Kitty died suddenly in 1915 at just 42, Milton's world shattered. Friends assumed the school would fade—it had been their shared dream, and she was gone.

Instead, Milton made a decision that stunned the business world.

In 1918, Milton Hershey transferred the majority ownership of the Hershey Chocolate Company into a trust for the school. Not a portion of his wealth. Not his personal savings. The company itself.

Every chocolate bar sold would now educate orphaned children. Every Hershey's Kiss, every piece of candy—all of it flowing into a trust that would care for children long after he was gone.

Business partners thought he'd lost his mind. "What if it fails?" they pressed.

Milton's answer was simple: "I'm not building monuments to myself. I'm building futures for children who have none."

He expanded relentlessly. More homesteads. More teachers. More students. Boys who'd been living in orphanages or on streets now had warm beds, three meals daily, education, healthcare, and a genuine shot at life.

When Milton Hershey died in 1945 at age 88, he'd given away virtually everything. He died modestly in a small apartment at the Hershey Hotel, surrounded by photographs of the children his school had saved.

But the story didn't end with his death. It multiplied.

Today—nearly 80 years after Milton died—the Milton Hershey School serves over 2,000 students from kindergarten through 12th grade. Every single one attends completely free. Zero tuition. Zero fees.

The school provides everything: housing in family-style homes, all meals and clothing, medical and dental care, college prep, vocational training, athletics, and college scholarships.

The Hershey Trust now manages over $15 billion in assets, making it one of America's wealthiest educational institutions. Millions of chocolate bars funding thousands of childhoods.

The school evolved too. It's no longer just orphaned boys—it serves children from low-income families, single-parent homes, and challenging circumstances. All races. All backgrounds. Any child who needs a chance receives one.

Over 11,000 alumni have graduated since 1909. Doctors, teachers, entrepreneurs, military officers, artists, engineers—children who started with nothing, given everything they needed to build something remarkable.

Because one man remembered what it felt like to fail. And when he finally succeeded, he didn't ask, "How much can I keep?" He asked, "How many lives can I change?"

Milton Hershey never had biological children. But he fathered thousands. And every time someone opens a Hershey bar, they participate in a century-long act of generosity that shows no signs of stopping.

There's a statue of Milton Hershey on the school campus. He's not portrayed as a wealthy industrialist in a fine suit. He's shown kneeling beside a young boy, eye to eye, hand resting on the child's shoulder.

That's how he saw them. Not as tax deductions or PR opportunities. As his children. The ones he and Kitty never had biologically, but loved completely nonetheless.

The chocolate empire remains massive. The Hershey's brand is recognized worldwide. But Milton Hershey's true legacy isn't candy—it's the thousands of children who grew up knowing that someone they never met believed they deserved a chance.

Most billionaires leave their fortunes to children who'll inherit comfort. Milton Hershey left his entire company to children who'd inherit nothing—and gave them everything instead.

That's not just philanthropy. That's love transformed into institution. That's grief converted into hope. That's one couple's dream of parenthood becoming thousands of childhoods worth living.

Every Hershey bar is sweet. But the story behind it? That's even sweeter.

Olympic opening ceremonies, Super Bowl and two beach walks!

 A weekend doesn't get better than that!  The weather yesterday was awesome.

Even the Herons were happy!

and the Super Bowl Canadian Commercials!

A great article on the development of vaccines

 

Most fathers get a blanket and some juice. Maurice Hilleman got a throat swab and drove to his lab. In March 1963, his five-year-old daughter Jeryl Lynn woke him up. Her throat hurt. Her jaw was swollen. She had the mumps. He looked at her for a moment. Then he made a decision that would save millions of children he'd never meet. Including his other daughter, who wasn't born yet.

Maurice Ralph Hilleman was born August 30, 1919, in Miles City, Montana. Population: about 5,000. High plains. Harsh winters. Hard people. His mother died two days after giving birth to twins. His twin sister died the same day. Before she died, his mother asked that the baby girl be buried in her arms. And that Maurice be raised by his uncle Bob and aunt Edith.

Bob and Edith had no children. They took Maurice. He grew up on their farm, living near his father and seven older siblings. Different enough to feel separate. Close enough to feel connected. Uncle Bob raised chickens. Thousands of them. Maurice's job was to care for them. Feed them. Clean the coops. Watch them grow. He hated it at first. Then he started noticing patterns. How diseases spread through the flock. Which birds stayed healthy. Which ones died.

Years later, he'd say those chickens taught him more about virology than any textbook. Since the 1930s, fertilized chicken eggs had been used to grow viruses for vaccines. The boy who hated chickens became the man who used them to save the world.

Maurice graduated high school in 1937. The Great Depression was still crushing America. His family had no money for college. His older brother intervened. Talked to the family. Found scholarships. Made it possible. Maurice attended Montana State College. Graduated first in his class in 1941. Chemistry and microbiology. He won a fellowship to University of Chicago. His doctoral thesis studied chlamydia, which everyone thought was a virus. Maurice proved it was actually a bacterium. That meant it could be treated with antibiotics.

In 1943, he married his hometown sweetheart, Thelma Mason. In 1944, he got his PhD.

He joined E.R. Squibb & Sons pharmaceutical company. His first vaccine was for Japanese B encephalitis, a disease threatening American troops in the Pacific.

From 1948 to 1957, he worked at Walter Reed Army Institute of Research. There he discovered antigenic shift and drift—the genetic changes that happen when flu virus mutates. That discovery led to a realization. Flu vaccines would need to be updated every year. The virus changed too fast.

In April 1957, reports came from Hong Kong. A new flu strain. Spreading fast. Children with glassy-eyed stares. Ten percent of the city's population infected in weeks. The scientific community stayed quiet. Maybe it would stay in Asia.

Hilleman recognized what was coming. A pandemic. It would hit the United States by fall. Right when kids went back to school. He sprang into action. Got virus samples from Hong Kong. Identified the new strain. Convinced Merck and other drug companies to start making vaccine immediately. They produced forty million doses in four months.

When the pandemic hit the United States in September 1957, the vaccine was ready. Not for everyone. But for the most vulnerable. It's estimated the vaccine saved hundreds of thousands of American lives. Maybe millions worldwide. It was the only time in history anyone stopped a pandemic with a vaccine. Later that year, in December, Hilleman joined Merck & Co. in Pennsylvania. His daughter Jeryl Lynn had just been born. He'd stay at Merck for forty-seven years.

In 1963, his wife Thelma died. She was only forty-two. Jeryl Lynn was five years old. Maurice married Lorraine Witmer in 1964. They had a daughter, Kirsten, in 1965. It was March 1963 when everything happened. Jeryl Lynn came to her father's room in the middle of the night. She was crying. Her throat hurt. Her jaw was swollen on one side. Maurice recognized it immediately. Mumps. Mumps was common then. Most kids got it. Usually they recovered fine. But sometimes it caused deafness. Sometimes brain inflammation. Sometimes it left young men sterile. In 1964, there would be about 210,000 reported cases in the United States. Likely many more unreported.

Most fathers would have gotten medicine. Tucked their daughter back in bed. Waited it out. Maurice looked at his sick little girl. Then he saw something else. An opportunity. He put Jeryl Lynn back to bed. Then he drove to his laboratory. Got sterile supplies. Came back home.

He woke her gently. Explained what he was doing. He swabbed her throat to collect the mumps virus. Then he drove the sample back to the lab. Jeryl Lynn went back to sleep. She'd recover fine in a few days. But the virus from her throat would change the world.

Creating a vaccine is slow work. Dangerous work. You take a virus that kills and you have to weaken it. Enough that it won't cause disease. But not so much that it won't trigger immune response. Too weak and it doesn't protect. Too strong and it causes the disease you're trying to prevent. Hilleman spent years working on the mumps virus from his daughter's throat. He passed it through chicken eggs multiple times. Each passage weakened it slightly. He tested it carefully. Made sure it was safe. Made sure it worked. He named the strain "Jeryl Lynn" after his daughter.

In 1966, he was ready for human trials. He needed to test it on children. His daughter Kirsten was one year old. He vaccinated her with the virus from her older sister's throat. It worked perfectly. "Here was a baby being protected by a virus from her sister," he later said. "This has been unique in the history of medicine, I think."

In 1967, four years after Jeryl Lynn woke up with a sore throat, the mumps vaccine was licensed. The Jeryl Lynn strain is still the mumps vaccine used worldwide today. Over fifty years later. But Hilleman didn't stop there. By 1968, he'd improved the measles vaccine. By 1971, he'd created the MMR vaccine—combining measles, mumps, and rubella into one shot. Before his career ended, he'd developed eight of the fourteen vaccines routinely given to American children. Measles. Mumps. Hepatitis A. Hepatitis B. Chickenpox. Meningitis. Pneumonia. Haemophilus influenzae. He also developed over thirty other vaccines. Some for animals. Some for diseases that aren't common in the United States.

The World Health Organization estimates the measles vaccine alone prevented 20.3 million deaths between 2000 and 2015. His hepatitis B vaccine was the first vaccine to prevent a cancer in humans. Liver cancer caused by hepatitis B virus. Colleagues described him as brilliant but difficult. He had a reputation for cursing. For being demanding. For having no patience with incompetence. He kept a shrunken head in his office. He was raised Lutheran but rejected religion as an adult after reading Darwin in eighth grade. He was blunt. Direct. Uninterested in politics or fame. Anthony Fauci said Hilleman had "little use for anyone who stood in the way of science and the saving of lives."

Thomas Starzl, the liver transplant pioneer, said Hilleman's hepatitis B vaccine was "one of the most outstanding contributions to human health of the twentieth century." Hilleman retired from Merck in 1984 at age sixty-five. Company policy mandated retirement at that age. But he kept working as a consultant. Advising the World Health Organization. Mentoring young scientists.

In 1998, Andrew Wakefield published a fraudulent study claiming the MMR vaccine caused autism. The study was later retracted. Multiple large studies disproved it. But the damage was done. An anti-vaccine movement began. Based on lies. Hilleman was still alive to see it. He died in 2005, never seeing the movement fully discredited.

He died of cancer on April 11, 2005, at age eighty-five. At the time of his death, scientists credited him with likely saving more lives than any other scientist of the twentieth century. There were no parades. No national mourning. Most people went about their day. But in schools across America, healthy children played. Children who would have been sick. Or deaf. Or dead. For those who remember the 1950s and 1960s, Hilleman's story carries weight. Before his vaccines, childhood was a dangerous time.

Measles killed thousands every year. Mumps caused permanent deafness. Hepatitis B caused liver cancer. These weren't rare diseases. They were common. Parents lived with constant low-level fear. Which child would get sick? How sick would they get? Would they recover? Today's parents don't carry that fear. They worry about other things. But not about whether measles will kill their child.

That's Hilleman's legacy. A generation raised without fear of diseases their grandparents dreaded. The question his life asks is simple but profound. When opportunity appears in the middle of crisis, do we see it?

His daughter got sick. He could have just comforted her. Instead, he saw a chance to help millions of other children. That takes a specific kind of mind. One that can hold love for one child and love for all children at the same time. Most of us will never develop a vaccine. But we all face moments where we can choose between the easy response and the meaningful one. Hilleman chose meaningful. Every time. For fifty years. He wasn't warm. He wasn't friendly. He didn't give inspirational speeches. He just worked. Quietly. Efficiently. Relentlessly. And because he did, millions of children are alive who would be dead. Millions more avoided suffering that would have defined their lives.

The virus that made Jeryl Lynn sick in 1963 is still protecting children in 2024. Still saving lives. Still carrying her name. That's what happens when one father looks at his sick daughter and sees not just his own child, but every child.

What happens if you don't put your cell phone on airplane mode on a flight?

Not switching your phone to airplane mode won’t make the plane crash, but it can create radio interference that annoys pilots, disrupts cockpit audio clarity, and overloads ground cell networks during takeoff and landing. Aviation authorities still require airplane mode because even small interference can matter during the most safety‑critical phases of flight.

What Actually Happens If You Don’t Use Airplane Mode

1. Interference With Pilot Headsets

• Phones that keep searching for a signal emit bursts of radio noise.

• Pilots report hearing this as a buzzing or static‑like interference in their headsets—similar to the sound you hear when a phone is near a speaker.

• This doesn’t disable communication, but it can make instructions from air traffic control less clear, especially during takeoff and landing.

2. Network Overload on the Ground

• During takeoff and landing, phones try to connect to multiple towers at once because they’re moving so quickly.

• This can overload ground networks and cause signal confusion.

3. Regulatory Requirements

• The FAA and other aviation authorities still require airplane mode unless the crew says otherwise.

• The rule exists because any interference—however small—is unacceptable during critical flight operations.

4. Your Phone Burns Battery and Performs Poorly

• Without airplane mode, your phone constantly searches for a tower it can’t reach.

• This drains battery quickly and may cause the device to heat up.

5. The Plane Will Not Fall Out of the Sky

• Aviation experts agree that a few phones left on won’t cause a crash.

• The real issue is cumulative interference and cockpit distraction—not catastrophic system failure.

Bottom Line for Travelers

Switching to airplane mode is mostly about preventing cockpit distraction, protecting ground networks, and following aviation regulations. The risk isn’t dramatic—but it’s real enough that airlines still enforce the rule.

I've known my friend for over 50 years, but I did know this!

I've been friends with Laurie since the 1970's!  We worked together at Pacific Western Airlines and have been friends ever since.  She came with me to Toronto in December.  In our airline days, we travelled together often.  

We went for lunch on Monday and she was telling me about her father's family.  Her four times Great Grandfather was Philemon Wright.  She said he was from Ottawa/Hull and there is a book about him.  I love genealogy and I looked him up.  What a fantastic story!

I found the book at Indigo and I've ordered it for Laurie.  

Walking in the Footsteps of Philemon Wright by Rick Henderson

Philemon Wright (1760–1839) was born in Woburn, Massachusetts, into a long‑established New England farming family. Raised as a farmer, he also served in the American Revolutionary War as a young man, fighting in key campaigns such as the Siege of Boston and the Saratoga Campaign.

By the late 1790s, Wright was looking northward. He believed the Ottawa Valley’s dense forests and powerful river system held enormous potential — even though almost no one else agreed with him.

Founding the First Permanent Settlement in the National Capital Region

In 1800, Wright led his family, four other families, and 33 axemen into the wilderness along the north shore of the Ottawa River. There, beside the Chaudière Falls, he established Wright’s Town (also called Wrightsville), the first permanent non‑Indigenous settlement in what is now the National Capital Region.

This settlement would eventually become Hull, and later part of the modern City of Gatineau.

Wright’s most transformative achievement came in 1806, when he launched the first successful timber raft down the Ottawa River to Quebec City. This daring experiment opened the Ottawa Valley to the global timber market and laid the economic foundation for the region’s growth.

The timber trade would dominate the region for decades, attracting workers, entrepreneurs, and eventually the attention of the British military — which helped lead to the construction of the Rideau Canal and the rise of Bytown (Ottawa).

Wright’s settlement was more diverse than many people realize. Among his original party was London Oxford, a free Black man who became the first recorded Black settler in the Ottawa Valley. His presence is rarely acknowledged in mainstream histories, but it’s an important part of the region’s story.

Wright’s community also supported the early development of Bytown and provided labour, supplies, and logistical help during the construction of the Rideau Canal.

Today, his name lives on in local landmarks, historical societies, and the work of descendants like historian Rick Henderson, who continues to document the Wright family’s impact on the Ottawa‑Gatineau region.

Rick Henderson who is related to Laurie has a blog:  https://www.capitalchronicles.ca/

I emailed Laurie the link to Rick's blog and I gave her his email address.  She will contact him and will plan a trip back to Ottawa.  I wish I knew all this before we went to Ottawa last summer!  

He's going to decertify Canadian aircraft?

I'm sure you know who I am speaking of.  He wants to decertify Canadian built aircraft from the United States.

“Based on the fact that Canada has wrongfully, illegally, and steadfastly refused to certify the Gulfstream 500, 600, 700, and 800 Jets, one of the greatest, most technologically advanced airplanes ever made, we are hereby decertifying their Bombardier Global Expresses, and all Aircraft made in Canada, until such time as Gulfstream, a Great American Company, is fully certified, as it should have been many years ago,” Trump wrote.

“Further, Canada is effectively prohibiting the sale of Gulfstream products in Canada through this very same certification process. If, for any reason, this situation is not immediately corrected, I am going to charge Canada a 50 per cent Tariff on any and all Aircraft sold into the United States of America. Thank you for your attention to this matter!”

The FAA does not "decertify" aircraft by country.  Certification is based on type design and safety compliance, not nationality.  But rules don't mean anything to him.

There are about 5,400 Canadian built aircraft registered in the United States.  Roughly 2,600 of those are Bombardier jets.  About 650 are CRJ regional airliners.  The CRJ's operate more than 2,600 flights every single day offering around 175,000 seats daily.  Those planes connect smaller American cities to major hubs.  

Go for it grandpa and you will only hurt American passengers in smaller communities!  It won't make America great.  It will make it late.  Late to work.  Late to weddings.  Late to chemotherapy.  

As far as your tariff threats, why hasn't the Supreme Court ruled on it?

Extortion in Surrey, British Columbia and our Police Force!

If you don't live in Canada, you may not know what's been going on.  We are not happy about being the number one dangerous city in Canada.  Our Mayor is in Ottawa.  Our Premier met with extortion victims and was horrified with what they told him.  

Remember when we went from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to our Surrey Police Services.  We don't have helicopters or a dog squad.  Many of the officers that were hired to our new police force had a lot of experience are close to retirement.  They won't work the streets!  The union agreement says two officers to every police car and I have NEVER seen that happen.  They don't have enough boots on the ground!

Premier David Eby put the Surrey Police Service and police board under a microscope Tuesday during a meeting with Surrey business leaders related to the ongoing extortion crisis plaguing South Asian businesses and residents in this city.  There will be a change of the guard with five of eight Surrey Police Board directors getting replaced after their terms expire.  Board chairman Harley Chappell confirmed this Tuesday afternoon.

This is from a local newspaper:

Patience has worn thin on the extortions front as pressure from Surrey Police Board directors came to bear on Chief Constable Norm Lipinski at its November 13 meeting. During that meeting director Bilal Cheema noted there’s “a lot of angst” in the community. “There’s a lot of worry, there’s a lot of fear. What concerns me is that when I hear the chief of our police tell me that we’re reaching our capacity I don’t feel that the criminals are reaching their capacity and that concerns the hell out of me.”  Cheema said at the November board meeting people are asking him for answers and he doesn’t know what to tell them. “I feel ashamed,” he said. “I sit on the Surrey Police Board and they expect me to have answers – I don’t have answers, and I bet some of my colleagues don’t have answers either.”  Eby on Tuesday expressed concern about “inconsistent communications” between the extortion task force and the Surrey Police Service to the community. “These inconsistent communications result in the community feeling that everybody is not on the same page, that they’re not all working together, that they’re not coordinated on the number-one issue in their lives,” he said.

If you watched the news, the Surrey Police Force announced the apprehension of three foreign nationals who shot at a residence in Crescent Beach.  It was another extortion warning.  What they didn't tell you is they didn't catch them.  Thanks to the RCMP and the Delta Dog Squad they were caught!  The Surrey Police Service lied to the citizens of Surrey!  They don't tell you that on the news.

This police transition isn't going well.  Hopefully the Premier will admit it was a mistake and give us back the Royal Canadian Mounted Police!  We are paying a lot of more in policing and getting a lot less for our tax dollars!  There are changes coming in the law that will help but you have to catch these people first!

Here is the press release from Mayor Brenda Locke:

Ottawa – Mayor Brenda Locke is in Ottawa this week to press for additional support to address the national extortion crisis. This will be her number one priority during her meetings with federal ministers, senior officials and municipal leaders.

“The extortion crisis has devastated families, shaken businesses, and put communities across the country on edge,” said Mayor Locke. “While recent steps from the federal government, such as the announcement of up to 20 additional RCMP officers, are encouraging, more needs to be done. This is a national emergency, and it requires a full-scale national response.”

Mayor Locke will reiterate her call to appoint a Commissioner for Extortion Violence Against Canadians to oversee the implementation of key measures, including:

• Immediate deployment of additional RCMP, federal organized crime units, and intelligence resources to Surrey
• Federal RCMP leadership of a joint federal-provincial-municipal task force with authority to act rapidly on extortion-related violence
• Expedited removal of non-citizens charged or convicted of extortion, firearms offences, or participation in extortion-related criminal activity
• Review of legislative gaps and recommendations to strengthen police capacity for arresting, charging and prosecuting offenders
• Quarterly public reporting on the severity of extortion-related activity and progress in addressing the crisis

“Three years in, we’re finally seeing movement from other orders of government, but the crisis is far from over,” Mayor Locke said. “My message in Ottawa will be simple: We cannot allow organized crime to continue threatening our city’s residents and business owners. We need decisive action now.”