DEAR ABBY: I have a younger brother who has moved back to the area where the rest of our siblings live. He went for 30 years without keeping in close contact with anyone during that time. He’s the youngest of 10 children, and our mother spoiled him rotten. He’s in his 60s now and still acts like an immature spoiled child. Our father had to bail him out of financial situations more times than I can count. Despite that, he hated our father and announced it when he came home for Dad’s funeral.
The problem we’re having now is that he constantly tries to stir up problems between the rest of us. Until he returned, we were a close-knit family. None of my other family members want anything to do with him, and they refuse invitations to get together if he will be there.
Abby, I love my brother, but I’m tired of his behavior. He had a drug problem when he lived out of state. He claims he’s clean now, but he has now replaced the drugs with alcohol. How can I get my family back without him if he isn’t willing to admit he is the problem?
— SIBLING SITUATION IN WISCONSIN
DEAR SIBLING: Stop inviting your brother to these gatherings. The sooner you do, the sooner he will learn the consequences of trying to stir up trouble among the siblings. Unless there are consequences for his behavior, it won’t stop. His behavior isn’t unusual for an addict. By that, I mean it is common for an addict to replace his drug addiction with another one and even more common to deny having a problem.
There’s a program that was created decades ago called Al-Anon. Al-Anon (al-anon.org) is an offshoot of Alcoholics Anonymous, created for anyone who is affected by a loved one’s drinking. It holds meetings everywhere, and you should have no trouble locating one near you. Attend some of those meetings, which are free of charge. When you do, you will meet others with problems similar to the one you are having.
** ** **
DEAR ABBY: I have been planning a dream trip to Europe with some family members. The people I’m traveling with are young and like to take selfies everywhere, which takes a lot of time. I don’t care about doing that type of thing. They are “girly girls,” and I am plain. I never know what to do while they are doing these things. They love hair and makeup and take up valuable time with these activities. I don’t begrudge them this, but do you have any advice on what to say or do while I wait around?
— FRETTING THIS TRIP
DEAR FRETTING: When people take selfies as they travel, part of the fun is capturing themselves against picturesque landscapes, famous landmarks or works of art. If you don’t want to be in the photos, keeping a visual record of your journey can still be fulfilling. Develop your photo or video skills by focusing on the scenery the girls are using as backdrops. If you are artistically inclined, a sketchbook may be more your speed. If images aren’t your thing, bring a travel journal in which you can jot down your impressions and favorite aspects of the places you visit.
DEAR ABBY: I’m in love with an older woman. I’m 41, and she is about 35 years older. I have known her since I was a kid. She’s the reason I always dated older women. I want to tell her how I feel, but I’m scared she’ll be shocked, and I wouldn’t want anyone else to find out my feelings, like her kids. I grew up with them.
We always enjoy our conversations, and I often throw her little hints. When I do, she smiles and likes that I flirt with her, but I’ve never told her my real feelings. What should I do?
— HIDING MY FEELINGS
DEAR HIDING: You have nothing to lose by telling her your real feelings. If you do, at the very least she will feel complimented. If there is a possibility that your feelings are reciprocated — well, you are both adults now. If her kids don’t object (once they get over the shock), you could have a happy life together. I say this with confidence because years ago a distant cousin of mine married a contemporary of one of her sons.
** ** **
DEAR ABBY: What is the proper etiquette when dining out and a hair is found in your meal? I informed the server, and she apologized and gave me credit for a free drink. Others say they wouldn’t have eaten the meal and would have requested a new entree. What would you have done?
— HAIRY SITUATION
DEAR SITUATION: A free drink is not adequate compensation for this unpleasant mistake. When you are presented with food that is inedible for any reason, the manager should be summoned immediately to comp the dish (or more), as well as to offer a sincere apology. When they offer to remake the food, you are within your rights to ask for a different entree. This should allay any suspicion that the kitchen staff might simply pluck out the hair and return the contaminated dish to you.
** ** **
DEAR ABBY: I have a friend in her 80s who always needs to be the center of attention. When someone is talking, not only does she interrupt the speaker, but she also distracts the ones trying to listen by dragging out pictures of her grandchildren.
She often makes inappropriate sexual comments. She even brought up the subject of sex with my husband! People don’t want to be around her. However, she will give the shirt off her back and go out of her way to help anyone. How can I tell her that her conversational style is off-putting without hurting her feelings?
— SUFFERING IN SILENCE
DEAR SUFFERING: This woman has several bad habits, so don’t expect her to correct them all at once. Privately and gently tell her you are not comfortable with her racy comments, nor is your husband. If she begins to show more restraint, be sure to express your sincere appreciation so she feels good about the effort she has made.
If her bad behavior is a sudden change, it may be a sign of a medical issue. Tell her you have noticed that she hasn’t seemed like herself recently and ask if she is keeping up with her medical exams. If you are acquainted with her family, urge them to have her evaluated by her doctor.
The sequences of steamy days and downpours in the Philly region and elsewhere won’t rank among the cherished memories of summer, but they may well end up having been a boon to the imminent fall foliage season.
The consensus among the veteran experts who pay close attention to the behavior of the trees is that this is shaping up to be an excellent season for spectacular waves of fall colors that ripple from northern New England to North Carolina, cresting from early October into early November, with Pennsylvania and New Jersey in the middle of it all.
As much as some folks may have been fed up with the humidity banquet, the trees — at least those that survived the storms — have been partying. Unlike last year, characterized by an early leaf fall, the players are remaining on the stage.
“Despite a droughty start to the growing season and some frost damage, our trees are looking green and healthy now, overall,” said Ryan Reed, a forestry specialist with the Pennsylvania Department of Conservation and Natural Resources, who is “looking forward to a beautiful season.”
What’s more, the snows and Arctic freezes of winter also may have made a significant contribution: The long-lasting snowpack patiently watered the foliage as it melted, neutralizing drought conditions. That was especially true in New England, meteorologist Jim Salge said in his Yankee Magazine foliage forecast.
But the key to the foliage season would be what happens this month, said Howard Neufeld, a biologist with Appalachian State University, who analyzed weather-foliage patterns for the last several years around the campus area in the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains andall but interrogated the trees to get at their myriad secrets, most of which they kept to themselves.
He holds that the main driver in the drama of the season is the production of anthocyanins, the reddish tints that are the show-stealer, and provide the tasteful contrasts to the yellows and russets.
Sunny days and cool nights are best, say the experts, but like everything else involving the atmosphere, this all gets very complicated.
As for whether the weather will cooperate, the burgeoning El Niño aside, the scientists who assembled the federal Climate Prediction Center’s fall outlook saw odds slightly tilted toward above-normal temperatures in the fall.
When to expect the onset and peak foliage
The day-to-day weather is going to influence when the leaves begin to turn and when they will peak. Just what effect long-term warming is having on the seasons, which are primarily light-driven, is unclear, and “each year brings subtle differences,” says William Keeton, forestry professor at the University of Vermont. Typically, the leaves up his way take on serious color by the end of September and peak the first or second week in October. Where Neufeld, an emeritus professor of ecophysiology, works in the Blue Ridges, whose ultra-popular foliage season was wiped out two years ago by Hurricane Helene, the peak can extend into early November.
On average, in the immediate Philly region, expect onset in mid-October, with peak around Halloween.
The higher the September temperature, averaged for the month, the later the onset of color,Neufeld said. A single degree could mean a difference of two days,he added.
Conversely, he found that higher daily maximum temperatures in September actually sped up the onset. (He didn’t know why, either.)
The key period for the weather conditions begins right about now, he said. A run of sunny days into October would be ideal for color, but a warm and rainy period would take the blush out of the reds and make for a duller show.
But that’s very much subject to variability: The trees have complex inner lives.
What’s behind the fall foliage show
Without getting too deeply into the weeds (or the leaf piles), here are the basics of the process.
Along with the shorter days — Philly loses an hour and 15 minutes of sunrise-to-sunset time this month — the sun is losing some mojo. With the dimming of the light, green chlorophyll recedes from leaves, yielding to those carrot-colored carotenoids and flamboyantly reddish anthocyanins. And Neufeld holds the reds are the stars.
“The oranges and yellows tend to be the same from year to year,” he said, “but the reds vary.” When it’s sunny and cool, sugars accumulate on the leaves and the reds can go to town. But if it’s cloudy and warm, the sugar factories shut down.
Just why some leaves turn red, such as the maples, “is not completely understood,” Keeton said.
Neufeld, a biologist, noted that it doesn’t happen in Europe, and holds the redness is related to a form of malnourishment — a function of a lack of nutrients in Eastern North American soils.
Whatever the cause, the process has contributed to the health and well-being of spectacular falls in one of the world’s prime foliage viewing corridors.
This year is shaping up to be another one, said Marc Abrams, a Penn State forestry professor emeritus, who has been tracking the woods for over 30 years. “At this point,” he said, “all systems go.”
Where and when to go leaf-peeping
For an overview of the likely onset and peak times across the country check out explorefall.com/fall-foliage-map. Its custodians say it’s the product of climatology and computer modeling.
The show opens in northern New England, and the NewEngland.com site posts graphics that show average conditions for each day.
Her loose silver locks, twinkling blue eyes, and jovial smile have surely met your gaze at least one time this summer. You may have seen her likeness plastered to the side of a bus, on abillboard outside the Fashion District in Center City, or, if you’ve been lucky, you’ve seen all 4-foot-9 ofher in person.
Carol Spacht, 70, has played Betsy Ross in the Philadelphia area for more than 30 years, but she’s never had a summer like this — one hosting rock concerts, strutting down red carpets with star athletes, and firing T-shirts into the sky from cannons.
A Visit PA advertisement in Center City featuring Carol Spacht as Betsy Ross.Visit PA
Betsy’s packed summer started with a kooky idea by tourism executives and representatives from some of the marquee events. To make the 250th summer really pop, Visit PA, the state’s tourism bureau, needed to stamp each summer event with something uniquely Pennsylvania. So it called upon Spacht as Betsy and Bill Robling, as Ben Franklin, as well as other recognizable Pennsylvania characters to become the state’s summer “playmakers” — essentially, hype men (and women) to appear at each big event.
Carol Spacht, who has portrayed Betsy Ross in Philadelphia for more than 30 years, poses for a portrait at City Tavern on Aug. 6, 2026. During Philadelphia’s Semiquincentennial summer, Spacht participated in celebrations surrounding events including the NFL Draft, MLB All-Star Game and a statewide free concert series, checking several longtime bucket-list experiences off along the way.Jose F. Moreno / Staff Photographer
Along the way, Betsy/Carol explored new cities, tried new sports, conquered some fears, and even kindled a brief but unforgettable summer romance.
Turns out that, even after more than 250 years, there are still plenty of new experiences to pursue.
Carol Spacht, who has portrayed Betsy Ross in Philadelphia for more than 30 years, poses for a portrait at City Tavern on Thursday, Aug. 6, 2026. During Philadelphia’s Semiquincentennial summer, Spacht participated in celebrations surrounding events including the NFL Draft, MLB All-Star Game and a statewide free concert series, checking several longtime bucket-list experiences off along the way.Jose F. Moreno / Staff Photographer
Since Betsy/Carol had a summer like no other, The Inquirer asked the Philadelphia celebrity to tell us about her top moments as the face of the United States’ 250th birthday celebration in Pennsylvania.
Where does Betsy end and Carol begin? After 30-plus years, even she couldn’t quite tell you anymore.
Betsy/Carol’s nine most memorable experiences this summer:
Tried a new food
It began with a lighthearted scuffle at an event they called the NFL Draft at Acrisure Stadium in Pittsburgh. On the concrete banks surrounding the field, on which the men in elaborate frocks romp and tumble, I found myself engaged in heated discourse with a man who calls himself Pittsburgh Dad.
He seemed to think that only experiences in Pittsburgh were civilized.
“You put Cheez Whiz on hoagies!” Pittsburgh Dad mocked. “I’d be happy to introduce you to a Primanti’s sandwich.”
This was my first jaunt to Pittsburgh, but Dr. Franklin and I entirely disagreed with him. We explained that Philadelphia had much higher civilization. The cheese and steak combination is a wondrous one!
But, resolved to maintain an open mind, Dr. Franklin and I ventured out that eve to Primanti Brothers to indulge.
The establishment bore an aroma not dissimilar to the scent of the rations the British offered my second and third husbands in prison. Perhaps some of these provisions were past their prime.
Nevertheless, I unwrapped my meal, beef twixt bread, without prejudice. I was dismayed to find the contents pouring out all over. I was certain these victuals wouldn’t fit evenly in my mouth. Nevertheless, I attempted a bite.
Immediately, I noticed the meat was covered in small sticks of potato that appeared to have been fried. The meal tasted of nothing, save wet potato and grease — simply vile.
I must speak plainly, I am decidedly no yinzer, as the Pittsburgh folk call themselves. I believe I’ll abide by cheesesteaks as my provision of choice forevermore.
Made a new friend
Weeks later, I ventured to Hershey, Pa. That eve, Joan Jett and the Avett Brothers would perform splendidly at Hersheypark for the America 250 PA Commonwealth Concert Series. ‘Twas a most delightful occasion and the venue smelled of chocolate! Delectable!
But my day’s peak came about hours prior, around midday, when I met a young woman named Cat Janisko. Together we were meant to capture moving portraits of ourselves enjoying the park for, as she explained to me, content for the Instagram. I had never traversed this village known as the Instagram, but being a woman of faith and deferential to my younger counterparts on these matters, I followed Ms. Janisko’s lead.
She wished to journey toward an enormous steel contrivance she called a roller coaster. I instantly bristled in apprehension.
When I looked to the top of it I glanced the fastest carriage I’d ever seen. It had no top, no horses and twirled along iron rungs. It seemed to defy all gravity. That bewigged fellow from England, Sir Isaac Newton, would have surely been confounded at the sight of it.
But then I spotted a procession of rather immobile horses encircling a festooned pole. ‘Twas known as a carousel, I learned. That seemed fitting, and so we embarked.
It had been centuries since I’d last mounted a steed, so my approach was less than dignified, but Ms. Janisko kindly offered a hand and together we rode, laughed, held a hearty discourse, and took pleasure in our budding fellowship.
Hosted a merry gathering, or, as the colony’s youths call it, a rager
Upon my return to Pittsburgh, I was advised to make for a promontory of sorts at a fork in the Ohio River — the yinzers called it Point State Park. That eve the rain was coming down with much force.
A company of musicians known as Third Eye Blind and a gentleman of song by the title of Nelly were meant to entertain the patriots that eve, the final performance in the America 250 PA Commonwealth Concert Series. I was tasked with introducing the fine performers.
I knew not of these songsters save that Mr. Nelly often remarked on being duly overheated in his jolly ditty “Hot in Herre.”
I stepped upon the stage and was rightly engulfed in lights of red and blue. I had no notion candles could shine in such hues.
Upon scaling the stage and taking my position in the center, I unfurled my small blue writing book and addressed the crowd.
Carol Spacht as Betsy Ross giving opening remarks at a Nelly concert in Pittsburgh.Beth Anne Spacht
“Tonight, I have been given the honor to help to celebrate the legacy of the country right here in Pittsburgh,” I bellowed, concluding with a rowdy “Huzzah!”
Being this was the last performance of the series, I beseeched the audience to “give me another huzzah!”
They obliged most graciously.
Fired a weapon of war
Back in my homestead of Philadelphia, I was presented with a most pleasing opportunity to fire a weapon from the grounds of Citizens Bank Park after the Philadelphia Phillies rightfully bested the Pittsburgh Pirates.
Mere moments before Dr. Franklin and I were meant to take the field, we were handed each a weapon and asked to engage in a few practice shots.
Carol Spacht as Betsy Ross poses with the Phillies T-shirt cannon.Mandy Tuttle
In my prime, I fashioned many a musket cartridge for our fine patriot men on the battlefields of the Revolutionary War. But this munition was decidedly softer and likely to inflict far fewer casualties.
The infantrymen with the Philadelphia Phillies presented me the cannon, but feared the “kickback” would be too much for my slight frame, they said. Pish posh, I decreed. After more than 250 years, I am rather sturdy.
I grasped the barrel of the weapon, drew a lever to pressurize the chamber, and pulled the trigger. The ammunition shot to the wall.
“Wow!” I exclaimed.
Not even a needle and thread could be so tantalizing.
I took to one corner of the field, Dr. Franklin to another, and Phil and Phillis, the Philadelphia Phillies’ homegrown militia members, took to the other corners.
Carol Spacht as Betsy Ross shoots a Phillies T-shirt cannon.Mandy Tuttle
I aimed my weapon high, but my munitions only reached the stadium’s second tier. Dr. Franklin reached the third but kindly refrained from boasting.
Carol Spacht as Betsy Ross on a Jumbotron at Citizens Bank Park shooting a Phillies T-shirt cannon.Mandy Tuttle
Soon after this, I again encountered Phil and Phillis,thePhillies’ twin mascots. I confided in the pair that my munitions only traveled to the second tier. They kindly shared a coveted privity. The longer a marksman pressurizes the chamber, the higher the munitions travel. To return the kindness, I gave the pair a few pointers on their curtseys.
Carol Spacht as Betsy Ross with Phil and Phillis in Philadelphia.Mandy Tuttle
Danced on the dugout with the Philly Phanatic
That same eve, I delighted in another new venture that I’d long awaited. Dr. Franklin and I were asked to dance beside the Phillie Phanatic on a section of the battlefield they call the dugout.
The Phillies infantrymen escorted Dr. Franklin and me through a tunnel and onto the field. We took our stations on either side of the Phanatic as a ditty known as “R.O.C.K. in the U.S.A.” by the fellow John Mellencamp graced our ears.
Suddenly, the Phanatic was holding some sort of large blue fiddle and strumming its strings. He handed it to Dr. Franklin who tried to play it with his teeth. It seemed to me most insensitive of him to boast a full set of teeth when our esteemed George Washington had so few, but I digress.
Soon, the Phanatic handed me the fiddle. I tried to play it rightly but found the instrument rather cumbersome, so I stood it upright and spun it round. It was nearly as tall as I am!
“Go Betsy,” a kind fellow in the audience hollered.
I pray no one informed the meeting of my transgression — Quakers aren’t meant to dance — but, oh, ‘twas such a delight!
Learned a new sport
During a series of events in Philadelphia that I’m told was called MLB All-Star Week — something regarding a stick and a ball — ‘tis of no consequence to me — I chanced upon a few youngladies, each one clutching the ends of two ropes.
I approached the fine young women from Philly Girls Jump, a group whose effort is to spark kinship among girls through sport.
“May I please try,” I inquired.
Upon my first attempt at this game they called “double Dutch” I stepped into the turning ropes and immediately became entangled. Pity. ’Twas quite unbecoming.
But one of the young patriots came to my aid.
“Dear Betsy,” the woman whispered. “Just jump in a steady rhythm. Don’t do anything else. We will do the rest.”
So I gathered up my petticoats, draped my flag over my arm, and attempted anew.
I leaped and leaped and the ropes flew under me, around me, and on top of me. ‘Twas most joyous an excursion.
Feeling venturesome, I endeavored to hop in a circle as the ropes turned. Most emboldened, I hopped clockwise, and then counterclockwise.
A marvelous little pastime it was!
Conquered a fear
The infantrymen of the Philadelphia Phillies invoked a new task for me amid MLB All-Star Week. They inquired about my interest in singing.
I am no songstress and have deftly avoided the activity. But I was told this style of singing, known as karaoke, would involve another voice and so I felt quite less vexed by the task.
Imagine my dismay when, during a practice, the man they called a disc jockey played me my song, “Philadelphia Freedom” by the lovely bespectacled gentleman Elton John, and all I heard was rhythmic cacophony, no second voice at all.
I feared this would prove the most disastrous of calamities.
To my horror, I soon learned this would not just be a singing performance but a singing competition among some performers, athletes, and myself.
As the penultimate competitor, I steeled myself, graced the stage outside Citizens Bank Park with feigned dignity and self-assurance and addressed the spectators of the MLB All-Star Fan Zone.
“Friends, my skill shall be with sewing. My skill is not with singing,” and so I beseeched: “Everyone must sing along.”
To my sheer delight, I soon discovered they were just as unlearned of singers as I! But we muddled through joyfully.
Next, a rather large gentleman named Jordan Mailata took the stage. I’m told he tumbles and romps in strange frocks in that game of football for the Philadelphia Eagles. He sang a ditty called “Eye of the Tiger” by a musical group known as Survivor.
He performed most wondrously. (Only a few years ago, Mr. Mailata competed on a visual program known as The Masked Singer, broadcast through all 13 colonies and beyond! How marvelous!)
Certainly, ‘twas no shock that he bested the competition, including myself, and was bestowed with the winning award.
But, as soon as he grasped the crystal trophy, he gazed upon my likeness.
“I’m actually going to give this to Ms. Betsy Ross because she did something incredibly brave,” he told the crowd.
My heart warmed! Even in the depths of war, kindness does persist.
Kindled a summer romance
Following that triumphant turnaround on the karaoke stage, Mr. Mailata and I ventured elsewhere in the fan zone to greet some young colonists who fancy the ball and stick game.
Before the young patriots could flank Mr. Mailata, I approached him.
Carol Spacht as Betsy Ross with Philadelphia Eagles offensive tackle Jordan Mailata.Mandy Tuttle
I was eager to refresh him of the fact we’d encountered each other once before.
When Mr. Mailata was a fresh Eagle years ago, I made a right blunder when I met him and called him a giant due to his stature. He firmly corrected me that he is no giant, he is an Eagle.
His eyes lit up as I recounted the tale. We smiled and laughed and shared a warm embrace.
‘Twas a fleeting dalliance but one I shant soon forget!
Had a celebrity moment
On the verdant, dewy ground of Independence Mall, I was requested to participate in a celebration of this stick and ball game.
A red carpet would stretch much yardage across the grounds and all the most skilled sportsmen would walk down. Before they went, I’d be permitted to journey down the carpet myself alongside a wild collection of enormous creatures known as mascots.
I strolled the carpet bearing a flag alongside a lovely young woman named Mo’ne Davis, who also plays the ball and stick game — how marvelous that women may partake!
We carried our flags side by side and were followed by the most outlandish collection of drummers, musicians, and acrobats bending their limbs every which way! Would it be awfully vain to say I felt like a right monarch?
I had a chance to meet all the unusual creatures, many of whom were eager to show me their stars and stripes frocks. Mr. and Mrs. Met, clad in many a spangle, requested a portrait with me, as did Raymond of theTampa Bay Ray and Rosie Red of Cincinnati, another woman in this sporting field. Women really can do anything these days! How remarkable!
It was quite spectacular to have all eyes on me for a brief moment. I may have eluded many a history book, never having documented my greatest achievement, leaving historians to quibble for centuries, but I was pleased to find that it truly is never too late for a second act.
DEAR ABBY: Two years ago, I ran into an old friend I hadn’t seen in more than 25 years. We went to dinner the following week. The dinner lasted three hours. Abby, she talked the entire time! It was a mix of grandiose stories, complaints about her health, complaints about her relationships and an attempt to make me feel guilty for not contacting her sooner. I tried to excuse it, telling myself, “It’s been decades; of course she has a lot to say.”
Every subsequent interaction followed the same pattern, with an expectation of far more of my time and energy than I was comfortable giving. At one point, she even sprinkled in a little condescension about my political leaning. I started feeling anxious before seeing her and drained afterward.
Over a year ago, I decided to take a step back. I told her I’d reach out when I felt up to socializing again, and I haven’t contacted her since. Despite that, she’s continued to call and text. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I have no interest in the friendship. At the same time, continuing to ignore her feels unkind. I know this will hurt her, but what’s the most honest (and least painful) way to tell her I don’t want further contact?
— GHOSTING HER ISN’T WORKING
DEAR GHOSTING: Unless you want to fully commit to the ghosting strategy by blocking this woman’s number, stop avoiding her calls and texts. Decline her next invitation by telling her you are trying to focus on other parts of your life right now. That’s the truth. If she persists, tell her getting together isn’t feasible right now and you prefer that she let you initiate contact in the future. If she still doesn’t get the message, blocking her is your only option.
** ** **
DEAR ABBY: I have a young neighbor who is interested in social causes. She advocates stopping animal abuse, has run the race against breast cancer and volunteers to feed the homeless. I enjoy talking to her because she’s so passionate about these causes.
She has told me she feels alienated from her schoolmates, who don’t like her “constant preaching.” Even her mother has told her she should “slow down and enjoy being a teenager.” The girl has told me I’m the only one who understands her. This is uncomfortable because she should be able to confide in her mother. Her mom should be proud of her for not engaging in the harmful behavior some teens do. The girl is lonely at school, and I don’t know what to tell her. Have you any ideas?
— SUPPORTIVE NEIGHBOR IN OHIO
DEAR SUPPORTIVE NEIGHBOR: Feeling some sense of alienation is part of being a teenager. I don’t think the girl’s mother suggesting she slow down and enjoy being a teen is a criticism, and you shouldn’t assume that the woman isn’t proud of her daughter.
Sometimes people — not just teenagers — need someone in their lives who is willing to listen and offer praise. Because the girl relates well to you, continue to fill that role. However, if her “constant preaching” is alienating her schoolmates, it couldn’t hurt to suggest that no one ever learned anything by talking — she should also do some listening. It’s good advice, and it applies to situations other than high school.
DEAR ABBY: I’m a single mother of an 18-year-old son with autism. I have known “Cliff” for more than 20 years. We live on opposite coasts. I want to be with him and he with me, though he doesn’t want my son to live with us at this time. He wants it to be just the two of us for a while. Abby, my son is not able to live on his own. Do you have any advice as to what to do?
— CLUELESS IN THE WEST
DEAR CLUELESS: It troubles me that Cliff is already trying to exclude your son from the equation. What exactly does he expect you to do with your son during this “honeymoon” period, and how long does he think it should last? It is important that you find out before this romance goes any further. What alternative living arrangements does Cliff have in mind for your son, what will they cost and who will be expected to pay for them? You didn’t mention how functional your son is, or how he interacts with others. Because he is 18, it’s time to start thinking ahead regardless of Cliff. What will become of your son if something should happen to you? Would he be cared for by other relatives? Would a group living arrangement work for him?
Some developmentally disabled individuals thrive when they have social interaction and some kind of work to do. Before you start planning your love life, you need to address these issues. The Autism Society of America (autismsociety.org) may be able to help you navigate them.
** ** **
DEAR ABBY: My wife passed away unexpectedly while we were in Europe. I phoned several people in the U.S. to let them know and asked that they let others know. Someone in my wife’s hometown posted the news to Facebook barely six hours after I had found her. My grief at the time was so great that I could not respond, as I was dealing with getting her remains back home. This has bothered me ever since that horrible day.
I sent the person a message, telling him I felt he had been disrespectful to me and my children. He replied that he had been so sad to learn that my wife had died that he felt compelled to post it to Facebook. (He did admit that his timing was bad.) I know I need to move on, and this person will definitely be left behind.
Is posting to social media acceptable before the family has had a chance to write an obituary and publish it? These platforms are public forums and should follow the normal rules of etiquette regarding respecting the family’s privacy.
— MOURNING WIDOWER
DEAR MOURNING WIDOWER: Please accept my sincere condolences on your wife’s passing. The acquaintance who posted to Facebook committed a serious social media faux pas. It is never acceptable to make any public announcement of a person’s death before the immediate family has done so. Still worse is the fact that he didn’t wait for 24 hours before rushing to his keyboard. It appears you were never close with this self-appointed town crier, and I don’t blame you for deciding you never will be.
DEAR ABBY: My husband and I have been married for eight years. For the most part, we are happy, but there is one thing that upsets me. He doesn’t like to have people over for social events. In fact, I can’t get him to participate in any social outing without him moaning and complaining the entire time.
I enjoy getting together with friends and having people over and so do our children. I love hosting birthday parties, barbecues and such, and I would love to have couples over for drinks or even a game night. It’s a constant struggle because my husband won’t meet me halfway. I feel like I’m trapped in my own home and can’t go anywhere. If I do go, he rarely accompanies me and our kids to social gatherings, and I am left to explain why he isn’t with us. I hate being put in this position. How can I make him meet me halfway?
— HELD BACK
DEAR HELD BACK: Short of ordering your husband to socialize at gunpoint, there’s nothing you can do. (Please do not point a gun at your husband.) By now, you should have realized that you can’t change him. You can, however, change how you react to his behavior.
Unless he had a complete personality change after the wedding, this is the person you married. Because this is who he is, it’s up to you to be less embarrassed and more up-front about explaining his absence when you and your children socialize without him. (“You know, ‘Harry’ just isn’t comfortable socializing. It’s not in his nature.”) Unless he forbids you to host a game night once in a while, go ahead and plan one. If he’s as antisocial as you say he is, he won’t be missed.
** ** **
DEAR ABBY: My granddaughter “Carrie” is getting married this fall. She has asked me to escort her down the aisle. She is in her mid-30s, and this is her second marriage. I am honored but also uncomfortable. Her mother (my daughter, “Lori”) and father were never married, and they have three children together. He was emotionally and physically abusive to the children and my daughter.
Carrie is estranged from her father and has had nothing to do with him for several years. She is also estranged from her mother. She feels that Lori has never been a mother to her, didn’t protect her or her siblings from their father and has recently made little effort to show an interest in her life. I have not yet told Lori that Carrie asked me to escort her down the aisle. I know Lori will be heartbroken. I am afraid that when I do tell her, our relationship will suffer. It is a long time between now and the wedding. Any suggestions?
— CONFLICTED GRANDMOTHER
DEAR GRANDMOTHER: Lori must already know that she won’t be invited to the ceremony, much less be a member of the wedding party. She can’t expect Carrie to walk down the aisle alone, so I hope she will be grateful that Carrie has a proud grandmother to fill the role. If not, that’s her problem; do not make it yours. Help give Carrie a loving, happy wedding day, and don’t allow the conflict between them to drag you down.
For nearly two centuries, the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University has stood as a monument to curious minds — and, at least for the last few decades, a respite for parents of restless children.
So, when the museum closes its doors at the end of this month, Philadelphia families may be left with one less kid-friendly haven and dwindling options on where to spend a rainy afternoon at an accessible price.
An adult ticket (ages 13 and up) to the Academy of Natural Sciences runs $22, while admission for children older than 2 cost $18 and those under 2 get in for free. That’s cheaper, across all age groups, than the Franklin Institute or the Please Touch Museum, for example. And unlike an outdoor experience, like the Philadelphia Zoo or any of the city’s many parks, an enjoyable afternoon at the Academy of Natural Sciences didn’t depend on the weather.
There’s still time to see the full-scale dinosaurs, taxidermy, and live animals — the museum’s last day open to the public will be Sunday, Sept. 27. But here’s 10 post-Academy-era alternatives for families looking to spend an afternoon indoors at a similar price tag.
The Independence Seaport Museum may float the nautical nerd’s boat.
Located on the Delaware River waterfront, the museum tells the region’s history through its major river artery, with some 10,000 objects and a million documents chronicling the area’s long maritime history. The museum boasts one of the continent’s largest maritime art and artifact collections, which includes a chart from Benjamin Franklin, a sea chest from the Spanish-American War, and a passenger list from the Titanic.
Got a kid that really loves firetrucks? The Fireman’s Hall Museum might spark some joy.
The Hall, located in a renovated firehouse, is one of the nation’s premier fire museums. Visitors can see antique apparatuses, try on firefighter boots and coats, and steer a fire boat — all while learning about fire safety and important skills, like when to call 911.
Pretty fire, right?
🕒 Tuesdays through Sundays, 10 a.m.-4 p.m., 💵 Free,📍 147 N. Second St., Philadelphia, Pa. 19106, 🌐 firemanshallmuseum.org
The Penn Museum connects humanity across continents and millennia through archaeology and anthropology, cultivating “endless exploration,” according to its website.
🕒 Tuesdays through Sundays, 10 a.m.-5 p.m., 💵 $23 for adults, $14 ages 6-17 and college students, free for children 5 and under,📍3260 South St., Philadelphia, Pa. 19104, 🌐 penn.museum
For those looking for a dinosaur fix in the post-Academy era, Wagner Free Institute of Science in North Philadelphia has a collection of Camarasaurus bones. The Wagner is a rare surviving 19th-century natural history museum with rocks, fossils, taxidermy, and skeletons galore.
Bone voyage!
Check out what other dinos are on display throughout the Philly region, here.
An up-and-coming chemist might like learning all about the people behind the world’s most significant scientific achievements at the Science History Institute. On Saturdays, the institute hosts “Stories of Science,” an interactive family-geared program highlighting strange and surprising histories.
A staple — or stitch — in the Philadelphia experience is the home of Betsy Ross, a colonial woman credited with sewing America’s first flag. Visitors can meet Betsy and explore artifacts throughout her home, including her sewing table. In the home’s basement kitchen there are interactive activities for kids, a spokesperson said.
Outside the Betsy Ross House and around Old City, people can also visit Once Upon A Nation Storytelling Benches for short, free, delightful stories about Philly’s little-known history. The storytelling benches run throughout the summer and end this Labor Day weekend.
🕒 Daily, hours vary by season 💵 $15+ for adults, $13+ ages 6-12, free for children 5 and under,📍 239 Arch St., Philadelphia, Pa. 19106, 🌐 historicphiladelphia.org/betsy-ross-house
Budding history buffs can dive deeper into the birth of the nation and ongoing American experiment at the Museum of the American Revolution. The museum’s kid-friendly programming includes a replica parlor, privy, and privateer ship, living historical interpreters, and theatrical reenactments. Through these exhibits — including those apt for Philly’s “revolutionary” Semiquincentennial summer — visitors can learn about the diverse people who influenced early American history.
The Museum of the American Revolution is also just a jaunt from Independence National Historic Park, where you can see historic iconography, like the Liberty Bell and exterior of Independence Hall, for free. (Tours of the interior of Independence Hall are ticketed.)
🕒 Daily, 9:30 a.m.-5 p.m., 💵 $25 for adults, $14 ages 6-17, free for children 5 and under,📍 101 S. Third St., Philadelphia, Pa. 19106, 🌐 amrevmuseum.org
The African American Museum chronicles the Black experience in America from pre-colonial times to the present. The museum explores themes like the African diaspora, prominent Black Philadelphians, and contemporary narratives. In addition to its exhibits, the museum also hosts holiday festivals and a monthly Family Fun Day.
Of note: The museum will be closed to the public beginning Sept. 7, while new exhibitions are installed. Check with the museum for a reopening date.
🕒 Wednesdays, noon-5 p.m., Thursdays through Sundays, 10 a.m.-5 p.m., 💵 $20 for adults, $10 ages 4-12 and students,📍 701 Arch St., Philadelphia, Pa. 19106, 🌐 aampmuseum.org
Admission to the Weitzman’s core exhibition, which traces nearly four centuries of Jewish American history, is always free. But for a limited time (Sept. 9 through Oct. 4) a ticketed gallery, “Colors of Creation,” a color-soaked journey through the origins of the world, will be offered at no cost.
“Colors of Creation” is a 26-minute interactive and immersive show, combining concert-style lighting, projections, and original music, as well as a time-unlimited playspace, a spokesperson said. The exhibit is geared toward young children, recommended for ages 3 and up, and their families.
🕒 Wednesdays through Sundays, 10 a.m.-5 p.m., 💵 Free general admission, ticketed special exhibits,📍101 S. Independence Mall E., Philadelphia, Pa. 19106, 🌐 theweitzman.org
South Philly’s American Swedish Historical Museum — the oldest Swedish museum in the United States — is located on lands that were once part of the New Sweden Colony. The museum now houses exhibits that explore that early relationship between Swedish culture and Philadelphia, Swedish contributions to the United States, and craft arts.
Monthly, the museum hosts “Toddler Time” for children ages 2 to 5. The hourlong programming includes “interactive stories, engaging hands-on activities and social interaction,” according to its website. The program is $5 for nonmembers.
🕒 Tuesdays through Sundays, 10 a.m.- 4 p.m., 💵 $15 for adults, $5 ages 5-11, free for children 5 and under,📍 1900 Pattison Ave., Philadelphia, Pa. 19145, 🌐 americanswedish.org
Elysia Baskins and Christopher Johnson did not intend to raise a child together.
They instantly got along when they met on Bumble in 2022; they both loved anime and eating Japanese food. But after their first date, Baskins didn’t feel a romantic chemistry, so they became best friends instead.
In 2025, Baskins got pregnant with her partner and asked Johnson to be the godfather.
She and her partner planned to live together with the baby. They signed a new lease on her West Philadelphia apartment and he packed a U-Haul. But he died by suicide on the day he was set to move in.
Baskins was left reeling, four months pregnant with barely enough money to cover rent.
Johnson, who lived in Fishtown, kept showing up. He drove her to prenatal appointments and watched episodes of Better Call Saul with her. Sometimes he stayed the night in her guest room when she didn’t want to face it alone.
In January, he was the one who drove her to the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania to give birth. In the months that followed, he visited every week. He folded laundry; he built the crib. He told Baskins the baby could call him “DD,” short for “Deity-ous Dad,” a joking play on “godfather.” He calls her “Baba.”
The baby’s father was Black, and to Johnson, who is also Black, it felt especially important that the baby grow up with another Black parent.
“I never thought about it in a casual way, or a lackadaisical way,” Johnson, 31, said. “I fully planned to be the next parent, the third.”
Christopher Johnson with Elysia Baskins’ daughter, Thursday, Sept. 3, 2026 in Philadelphia.Elizabeth Robertson / Staff Photographer
In July, Baskins, 33, and her daughter, who is 8 months, moved in to Johnson’s home in Fishtown.
Baskins now works from that home, as a text counselor for the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. Johnson works as an inventory coordinator at a Kensington hardware store and as a home health aide for his mother. Though they are not romantically involved, neither are dating other people right now. They are raising her daughter together.
“With him not being her biological father, I wouldn’t necessarily feel like I need to consult him on all the parenting decisions,” Baskins said. “But I would want to anyway. So it almost doesn’t matter.”
The following, as told to Zoe Greenberg in separate interviews, has been edited for length and clarity and combined.
On telling Johnson she was pregnant
Baskins: I was very nervous because things weren’t ideal, but I had been really wanting a baby for a long time. I knew he would potentially be worried about me. It was planned, but maybe not entirely well-thought-out.
Johnson: I was a bit apprehensive. I cannot make that choice for anyone else, obviously. But I thought circumstantially, they weren’t ready. In terms of mental health, finances. My apprehension was known before the pregnancy — there are no real secrets between us.
On asking Johnson to be the godfather
Baskins: As soon as I knew I was pregnant, I wanted him to be her godfather. I knew I was going to need to rely on a community of people to raise this child. It wasn’t going to just be me and my partner. If anything happened to both of us, he would literally step up and take care of her.
Johnson: They asked me together. I said yes, I’d love to. I knew I was going to be present.
On deciding to move in together
Baskins: It wasn’t something I jumped on. I really thought it over for weeks, maybe even months. I asked everyone in my support system, “Do you think I should do this?” I didn’t want to put a big strain on our friendship.
Johnson: We talked about it when she was pregnant. At least I threw it out there as a thought. But it was just too hard of a time to try to make that kind of decision.
On committing to each other
Baskins: I said, “If we move in together, I’m going to be here for at least five years probably before I can be fully independent. … I worry about when that time comes. She’s gonna be attached to you like you’re her parent.”
Johnson: I tried to be properly responsible and consider all the factors. For myself, my answer was: at worst, everything will be OK.
On sharing the parenting
Baskins: He does a little bit of everything. He’s fed her. He puts her to bed. He changes her. He takes her out. He gives her baths. I just do that stuff more.
I think of myself as the primary parent, but I also refer to him as a co-parent. I don’t have the exact same expectations as I might have had of my partner, but somewhere in the middle — not just a regular friendship either.
Johnson: I think of myself both as godfather and as Dad. I’m proud to be the person that’s here, day in and day out, in this paternal role. But in no way will I not also honor her true father. Her father was a great dude. We’ll be as close as parent and child can be, but we’ll have to navigate that as she gets older.
On dating other people
Baskins: I’m not really interested in dating, but a time could come when that might be different.
Johnson: I’d rather have stability and everything settled for a bit before I go back into dating. We’re two grown adults who aren’t partners, living with each other and co-parenting. If one of us wants to date and have someone that we’re dating over, there’s a lot to explain ahead of time.
On what the future might look like
Baskins: I would love to still be living in really close quarters. We have talked about what if we want to get a house around the same time? Could we get a house together?
Johnson: I think we’ll probably still be living together. Or living in such close vicinity it’s practically like we’re living together.
This story is part of a series about life partners across the Philadelphia area.
If you want to share your story about who you’re navigating life with, romantically or otherwise, write to lifepartners@inquirer.com. We won’t publish anything without speaking to you first.
The Academy of Natural Sciences has been an institution in Philadelphia for nearly 200 years.
Generations of kids have walked into Dinosaur Hall and stared up at the skeletons, pressed buttons, dug for fossils, looked at bugs, and wandered past those wonderfully old-school animal dioramas. Then they grew up, had kids, and brought them back to do the exact same things.
At the end of the month, that stops. The museum is closing as attendance has fallen and operating costs have risen, though the Academy’s scientific research and its collection of roughly 19 million specimens will remain. What happens to the museum is uncertain; Academy leaders say they hope public access can return in some form.
That uncertainty is what makes this feel like more than another attraction closing. Philadelphia’s identity isn’t just cheesesteaks and sports teams and the stuff that fits neatly on a tourism poster. It’s also the institutions that have been here so long that generations assume they’ll always be here — the Academy, the Franklin Institute, the Art Museum, the Please Touch Museum. They’re where Philly kids learn, and learn what their city is.
The dinosaurs aren’t just leaving the Parkway. Philly is losing one of the places that helped make us, us.
6abc meteorologist Cecily Tynan walks off the set at the 6abc studios in Philadelphia on Thursday, August 27, 2026.Elizabeth Robertson / Staff Photographer
Cecily gives her final forecast: D
For 31 years, Cecily Tynan told the Delaware Valley what was coming. On Monday night, everyone already knew the forecast: This was going to hurt a little.
Tynan delivered her final weather report on Action News, choking up as she thanked viewers who had watched her through everything from the Blizzard of ’96 to Superstorm Sandy. She talked about meeting families who had watched 6abc for generations and even young Cecilys whose parents named them after her.
Then Jim Gardner — because apparently this goodbye wasn’t emotional enough already — returned to the studio to send off his longtime colleague (WITHOUT HIS MUSTACHE, let’s not forget to mention).
Cecily wasn’t just there for the giant storms people remember. She was there on thousands of ordinary nights, standing in front of that weather map while families ate dinner, packed lunches, wondered about school the next morning, or decided whether they needed an umbrella. She became part of the routine.
Even Cecily seemed to understand that relationship when she told viewers that although she was retiring, she’d “always be part of the Action News team.”
Team Nutz celebrates taking first place in the 25th Dushore Founder’s Day Outhouse Race on Saturday, Aug. 8, 2026 in Dushore, Pa. The Dushore Lyons Club event featured 10 teams comprised of a driver and four pushers who raced custom-designed outhouses along Main Street as hundreds of locals lined the sidewalks to watch and cheer.RALPH WILSON/For the Inquirer
Philly needs an outhouse race: A
Every once in a while, another part of Pennsylvania comes up with an idea so stupid that Philadelphia should immediately steal it.
In Dushore, a tiny Sullivan County town of about 450 people, residents have spent the last 26 years racing outhouses down Main Street. The rules require a real toilet seat, four pushers and one person sitting on the throne to steer. Teams have names like Perfect Dump, Steiny’s Heineys, and the Coal Region Turd Herders. There are trophies. People train for this.
Naturally, the question is: Why aren’t we doing this in Philly?
Imagine outhouses flying down the Parkway, preferably with Gritty sitting on the toilet. Put one on the Manayunk Wall if we’re feeling reckless. Neighborhood teams would have to build their own: Rittenhouse vs. Fishtown vs. Delco, which isn’t technically a neighborhood but would absolutely show up with an outhouse anyway. Wawa could sponsor one. SEPTA could enter another.
Dushore drew a crowd several times larger than the town’s population to watch people push toilets up and down the street, and Philadelphia has closed roads for far less compelling reasons.
So bring the Turd Herders to Broad Street!
You cannot reboot ‘Jersey Shore’: C
Netflix is filming a new reality show, The Leftovers, in Seaside Heights with longtime Jersey Shore producer SallyAnn Salsano. They insist it’s not a reboot, which is smart, because you cannot recreate that level of magic.
Jersey Shore gave us GTL, “cabs are here,” Snooki getting arrested on the beach, Ron and Sam fighting about everything, and an anonymous note becoming one of the most important documents ever produced in New Jersey.
You can find another group of hot, messy 20-somethings, but you cannot make them accidentally invent GTL again. Reality TV contestants know too much now. They arrive with Instagram strategies and a preferred angle.
So let The Leftovers be its own beautiful Jersey disaster.
Phillies Bryce Harper high-fives teammates after hitting a two-run home run in the sixth inning against the St. Louis Cardinals at Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia on Saturday, August 22, 2026.Elizabeth Robertson / Staff Photographer
Falling for the Phillies, again: A
The problem with this particular Phillies team is that we know better.
We have been here before. We’ve watched October end against Arizona, the Mets, and the Dodgers in increasingly creative ways, then spent entire off seasons insisting we would not let these people hurt us again.
And yet, look at us.
The Phillies have won six straight, moved into the top National League wild-card spot, and are suddenly just three games behind Atlanta in the NL East with a four-game series against the Braves this weekend. That is exactly the kind of September setup that makes all those carefully constructed emotional boundaries start to seem a little dramatic.
It helps that Bryce Harper looks like Bryce Harper again. After hitting .333 with a 1.069 OPS in August, he opened September by going 4-for-4 with a walk, extending his on-base streak to 34 games, and pushing his season OPS above .900. Jesús Luzardo is 9-0 on the road. The lineup is finding ways to score without relying entirely on home runs. Even when one part of this team isn’t carrying the night, somebody else seems to be.
This is how they get you. A month ago, October still felt like something to approach with extreme caution. Now the Braves are here, Harper is cooking, and Citizens Bank Park gets four chances at them this weekend.
