"Both Sides Now" Podcast Premiere Link along with Yergz's "Rest of the Story"

The premiere episode of the NEW! audio podcast--“Both Sides Now”--is available now featuring Ross (Yergz) Yerger and Jane Stahl: https://open.spotify.com/show/6kaBVfsQRBNaDwhrWNaEkF?si=1171794fd7d94435

The premiere episode introduces the co-hosts through reflections about their roles as Secret Service agent and high school teacher respectively on 9/11 and its aftermath, beginning 9/12.

Always the teacher, Jane assigns listeners to find ways to bring back the unity and civic spirit that followed America’s attack from foreign enemies—needed in today’s partisan culture.

Yergz shares pieces of his story that he offers at length below. 

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For those in our audience who prefer to read, Yergz shares the rest of his story and hopes you’ll join him at yergz.com where he’s got a lot of other projects going on with interesting people and content.

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Hello Boyertown!

I’m returning to my hometown, if only virtually, in effort to take part in my community, where I've decided to partner with Lesley Misko and Jane Stahl to work as a contributor for The Boyertown Area Expression.

Due to the political nature of my podcast and radio show, we decided that my work with The Expression would be more inspirational and personal in nature. My first contribution, given that I've met these ladies through high school, was planned to be a quote about high school from the famous actor, Sir Anthony Hopkins.

Then, life happened.

My new hometown of Tampa, Florida, saw devastation recently that only God can create. So instead, I pivoted, and the celebrity inspiration and resulting quote comes from a neighbor, of sorts, WWE superstar and movie star, John Cena. In fact, he gives us two quotes that are quite relevant.

“There are moments in life where it gets so hectic that time becomes a blur. Keep calm and never give up!”

Welcome to my world. Hectic. Blur. UNDERSTATEMENT.

It seems as though my whole life has been nothing but hectic. As a boy, my cousin, Greg; brother, Randy; and I would join my Dad, Irv Yerger, and Greg’s Dad, Bill Bernhard on “the chains” for all of the home football games in what I guess is still called “Bear Stadium II.” We didn’t always have a football “stadium”; back in my day it was just “Boyertown’s field…” But growth can be a good thing!

In the winter, I’d take part in Friday Night Drop-In Hockey conducted by the YMCA (and my Dad), almost right after school. We would be off for dinner at McDonald’s, then we started at the Boyertown Elementary at 6pm for elementary school kids, followed by 8pm for the less popular junior high school program, and 9pm to 11pm for senior high school and adults. And, of course, I was the referee! Training myself, early, for my career as a referee in the National Hockey League was a career goal, not a dream, to which I must now admit I’ve failed to achieve. Two trips to the US Olympic Training Center, plus four trips to summer schools run by NHL officials, I eventually had to admit that I did NOT, after all, have what it took to make the NHL. There would be other opportunities.

Then came spring and it was time for baseball. After playing my final game in The Boyertown Midget League, Major Division for 11 & 12 year-olds, I found myself the very next night on 3rd base, in the Minor Division for 9 & 10 year-olds umpiring my first real game. If I remember, I had one fair/foul call, and a safe call at third base. It would never, again, be so easy. Ever. And after umpiring PIAA Varsity baseball, as a senior in high school, and local college baseball, as a Penn State student, in January of 1996, it was off to umpire school and two years in the minor leagues. But like the NHL, Major League Baseball was not to be. So, it became time to find other activities to keep me busy.

Then, I saw them. Two movies that would change my life, forever! I can still hear her singing…

Please, for this next part, envision the late, great Whitney Houston, or even Dolly Parton, singing this song. Not me!

“If I, should stay

I would only be in your way…”

College, a house fire, and a career path.
After five years, I finished Penn State with, kind of, TWO degrees; my Bachelor of Arts degree in History, and a “minor,” as Penn State calls it, in Political Science. Think of it as getting a smaller, related-to-the-major degree, while achieving the major. Like an Associate’s, perhaps. I learned that I did NOT want to teach History in high school because of two major factors: 1) many kids didn’t have the maturity, (nor I the patience) to REALLY study history, and 2) I wanted to teach, not monitor study halls, or lunch periods. So now it was time to consider teaching in college. Very cool! Except one thing: At Penn State I studied under a nationally known historian and political scientist named Dr. Tim Blessing. “Doc Bless,” as we called him, was also my freshman advisor at Penn State-Berks (now merged with PSU-Allentown to be PSU-Berks/Lehigh). He advised that I’d need “at least one doctorate” to have a chance of getting tenured at a university. “Tenured” is like the equivalent of other jobs in having a union membership, or immediate job security. I’d have to REALLY screw up to be fired. Then, that’s exactly what happened to one of the best instructors I ever had, a French teacher at Penn State – University Park. The guy was also the HEAD of the French Department. AMAZING TEACHER. I learned more French from him in one semester, than I did in three years in High School and all other college semesters, combined! But “French Jim” wasn’t published. He was not getting the “PSU Brand” out there. So, he was let go.

And that brings us back to our two movies, and our second John Cena quote:

“A man’s character is not judged after he celebrates a victory, but by what he does when his back is against the wall.”

During my years in college, my parents’ house caught fire, with us sleeping in it! My bedroom was a total loss, so I had nothing but the clothes I was wearing (which is not much for me when I sleep), and those that happened to be dirty and in the downstairs laundry room. The devastation and helplessness would come back to help me, here in Tampa, and even other times in life.

I now am a Penn State Alum, but I’m not a hockey referee, nor a baseball umpire. Am I going to tend bar and tell folks about my glory days in the minors? Or recreate MORE glory days?

Remember that I said there were TWO movies? By now I’m sure that you figured out that one was The Bodyguard, starring Whitney along with Kevin Costner. The other movie, helped me to home in on exactly WHERE I was going to spend my life: keeping people safe; In the Line of Fire, starring Clint Eastwood, John Malkovich, Dylan McDermott, Rene Russo and the lates Fred Dalton Thompson and John Mahoney, helped me find my calling to join the United States Secret Service.

This movie also strikes a chord with me, as I know one of the Agents who was in Dallas in 1963! Family friend, Sam Sulliman, is the best friend of Special Agent Clint Hill, the agent that you see climbing up on the back of the limo in the Zapruder Film.

Sam advised me during my recruitment and remained a mentor early in my career. Is it because of politics? Or because I just make sure that I’m surrounded by good people? Either way, Sam was there for me, as was our mutual friend that introduced us, Dale Yeager of Seraph Security. He’s the one that would get me doing bodyguard work right out of college, before I’d take a permanent position as a driver, working for ANOTHER family friend, Sal Cutrona, a partner at the consulting firm then known as “Anderson Consulting,” today known as “Accenture.” Talk about ANOTHER heavy weight! But stories from being “in place” are exactly what we do NOT tell!

So now my back is against the wall, or so it will be. I’m all set to join the Secret Service - the best bodyguards in history! And then, I get it. It’s called a B.Q.A. Letter. It’s the “thanks, but no thanks” letter. “B-Q-A” stands for “Better Qualified Applicant.” I cried. Sorry John, but my heart and mind were set!

By this time, I already had taken an additional position with the North Coventry Township Police Department, under another “late, great,” Chief Michael Benyo. “Uncle Mike” would be one of my “eight.” The eight friends, family and/or co-workers who would lose a battle with depression and take their own lives.

Yes, EIGHT!

Two family members, the earlier mentioned Uncle Bill, being one, and my Aunt Lori’s brother, Todd, being another. The six remaining included “Uncle Mike” (who was more like another uncle to me than my boss) is one of them; all were members of the Law Enforcement Community. Five of those six were three Special Agents and two officers from our Uniformed Division within the Secret Service. Think about it: five Secret Service Personnel in my 21 years of service. That’s one every four years. WAAAAY too many! It’s partially how I would later realize that I myself am suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD.

So, if I wasn’t keeping cool in a burning house, I kept my cool after numerous career GOALS (not dreams, GOALS) didn’t work out. Then Chief Benyo saw my announcement to the department and said, “If they don’t want ya, we’ll take you!” And he went into his office, closed the door and came back out, a day later, with the applications for funding to President Bill Clinton’s Crime Bill--the one that gave federal monies to small local departments like North Coventry, to pay to send me to the police academy. And just like that, I was off to The Reading Police Academy during one of the hottest summers on record, 1999.

But my time in North Coventry would only be for about a year when the Secret Service came calling, again. They wanted to correct some of their errors that they committed in my first background investigation, and they wanted to know if I was still interested in a career with them. Remember the B.Q.A. Letter? I would later frame it (because that’s how I celebrate a victory) and hang it at my desk for the next 21 years. Today, it hangs by the bar in my house, near Tampa. Yes, I have a bar in my house! Don’t judge…

On Monday, July 17, 2000, I walked into the Philadelphia Field Office as a brand-new Special Agent to the US Secret Service. It wouldn’t be, however, for more than a year until I got out of training and was ready to serve my first day as the On-Call or “Duty Agent” for the office.

That day was Tuesday, September 11, 2001. Talk about my back being against the wall. Our whole country’s backs were against the wall! I was on my way to a meeting with various law enforcement agencies at the Exeter Township Police Department, in Berks County, when I got the call.

A plane flew into the World Trade Center in New York City. World Trade. The address for our New York Field Office, or “NYFO” (Pronounced in government speak: Ni Fo). A place that housed some recently made friends, classmates, and co-workers. I continued to Exeter PD, where I was hustled into a meeting room to meet with everyone else who were already glued to a TV set. Back then, we had to watch an actual TV. That we could send an email from our phone was a HUGE plus!

I was a rookie. The role that I was about to play in securing the City of Philadelphia did not belong to a young buck like me. But then again, it was 2001, and no one else had a land-line telephone anymore. Everyone’s “home phone” was their mobile phone. So, rookie or not, I was sent home, along with everyone else. The Philadelphia Federal Building, Independence Hall and brand-new Constitution Center were on the list of targets. I sat on the side of my bed for the next few hours receiving classified briefings, via un-secure communications and updated my bosses immediately after. The information, I’m not sure, but STILL may be classified. I know, for a fact, that some of our nation’s intelligence services that were on those calls STILL ARE classified. For as amazing as the CIA is, there is SO MUCH MORE to our Nation’s Intelligence Community, and rightfully so.

I kept calm. Stayed in my lane. And served my Country.

After 3 years in Philadelphia, I took a transfer to San Francisco, where I would serve another four years. Then, it was off to the Varsity! Or so I thought. My goal (remember, GOAL, not dream) to protect the President of the United States, would be dashed when I was told that I was going to “Former Clinton.” We are the only country in the world that protects our “FORMER” Heads of State, or Heads of Government. Legally, the President of the United States is both; two very specific and separate rolls.

Not long into my stay in DC, where I was assigned to Former First Lady Hillary Clinton while she was a New York Senator, I began having issues with my mortgage company, One West Bank. Their President, Steven Mnuchin, would return to my life, later in my career, providing another opportunity to show excellent judgement on my part. I’m sure you recognize the name. No? He was, at this time “the Foreclosure King,” but would later be Donald Trump’s Secretary of the Treasury.

For most of my time in DC, my house was in foreclosure due to fraudulent practices of One West Bank and “Secretary” Mnuchin. In short, they tried to illegally foreclose on my house. Why? When they started, I lived in the hood! And I, literally, had the nicest house on the block. And they knew it. They also knew that Park View, a DC neighborhood that was one mile due north of Howard University, and 5 blocks west of the Washington Hospital Center, was going to be theplace to live. So, steal my house, then sell it for a profit.

Here's what they didn’t see coming: the owner was an experienced fraud investigator. And I caught them! By keeping cool, I would go on to win, by jury trial, a case against them for Fraud, Breach of Contract, and Deceptive Business Practices. GUILTY! Or, as it’s said in civil court, “a judgement in my favor.”

Time got hectic and became a blur. I kept calm and never gave up. Oh, I had sleepless nights, but never gave up. Then, it happened. ANOTHER opportunity to transfer – AND SELL MY HOUSE! Which I did, for a profit. I paid off what I still owed One West Bank, and turned around and used the money to buy a 60’ x 90’ plot of land – in Belize, Central America! How’s THAT for celebrating a victory?! That was only 2019 when I bought the land. Four and a half short years later, I could sell it for more than twice what I paid!

But as I said earlier, Life happens.

I’m now retired, after 21 years of service, I “pulled the plug,” as we say. We have warped senses of humor. I moved to a place where I was going to further that plot of land, but not to Belize. I moved to Tampa with the intentions of buying a small inn, bar and restaurant, included. You noticed? This place has a bar, too! Sadly, the purchase didn’t work out, so I found what is now home. For my own security reasons, I won’t give you the ACTUAL address, but I’m in suburban Tampa / Clearwater and right on the water. I now own two jet skis that sit on the canal in my back yard which leads right to the Gulf of Mexico. Clear water. Sunny days. And a pension!

But remember that hectic life? I missed it, and almost immediately! So, I began fulfilling another goal: to be a Dad! And within the year, I began the adoption process to adopt the young man that is now my son, Zack. He’s since turned 18, and would have “aged out” had I not adopted him. I see my opening up to him as a way for me to stay in contact with the law enforcement community; that I’m removing him from one system (child welfare) and keeping him out of another system (criminal justice). Just yesterday, he said that I “saved him.” That was probably the tightest hug that he ever gave me!

The process was not without issues. The state of Florida is a hot mess. And Ron DeSantis, the current governor, is no better. It cost me way more money than I was told, and much of that was for attorney’s fees just to protect Zack and me from the state employees that are supposed to be protecting him! They don’t want me calling Zack “my son” in court, because our adoption is not finished yet. And since he’s 18, I have no legal standing any longer as his care giver. He’s technically an adult. Does anyone smell the same rat that I smell? And can we at least remember that these are the same people supposed to FIND Zack a family? Now he has one and he’s not allowed to use it? Bullshit. So, this fall we will continue to keep calm, slowly remove our backs from the wall, never give up, and get ready to celebrate a victory – Adult Adoption!

We will finally complete the adoption while they are focusing on his first semester of college. And then walk into court for an update, and they’ll get a surprise!!

So, what have we learned?

Keep calm. Never give up. Perform when your back is against the wall.

Wow. We’re just getting started!

It was a Saturday. A week ago. I learned of “activity” off the coast of my other home, Belize. A low-pressure system was developing in the northwestern Caribbean that meteorologists were “watching.” Here we go.

By Sunday, it was a Tropical Depression, Monday it was a Tropical Storm, just off the southern coast of Cuba, with a projected path northbound, straight for – you guessed it – the Tampa Bay Region. By Monday it reached Hurricane status and was no longer projecting us to be a direct hit. But we were close. Too close. The “eye” of the storm would pass us only 30 miles off the coast. That’s where many friends of mine fish, some daily. As Monday, then Tuesday came and went, the projected land fall creeped ever so much farther west, but what was beneficial for us in Tampa Bay was that that PATH was even FARTHER west. And, it was moving. FAST! Last year Hurricane Ian came through to our south at a crawling 8 miles per hour. Hurricane Idalia, now a Category 3, or “Cat 3” was moving at more than twice that speed, at 17 miles per hour! Tuesday night, we had a bunch of elements for a “perfect storm,” just not sure WHERE that storm would be. WARM gulf waters. Upwards of 90*F. Low Air Pressure. Air temperature differentials making swift winds. Oh, and one more thing: a second full moon of the month, called a “Blue Moon.” This is not a frequent feature in life, let along on the eve of a major hurricane making landfall. If you’ve ever heard the saying, I know that my Mom, Susy Yerger, uses it: “Once in a blue moon…”

Today was that day.

Overnight she grew to being a Cat 4 hurricane, meaning that Idalia now had sustained winds of 130 – 156 mph. And remember the low pressure, now paired with a full moon? For those that don’t know why the moon takes effect on a hurricane; it’s tidal shift. The four major elements of changing tides are 1) Sun’s gravity, 2) Moon’s gravity, 3) Low or High air pressure and 4) winds. We had it all! The one thing that saved us when she passed through our area was that she was due west, and shifting to our north at our area’s Low Tide. That means that the counter-clockwise rotation put us at the 3 o’clock position, where water and air flow is NORTH BOUND, and sucking water OUT of our canals. As we were in the 6 o’clock position, when the storm was swirling water west – right at us – we were, thank God, at Low Tide!

Yet we still saw a 7’-9’ foot storm surge. My house was ready. We kept calm, never gave up and prepared. Sand bags closed off both back doors. On-the-floor valuables, a rug given to me by the King of Morrocco, were off the floor. This computer was unplugged and off.

Tuesday night I slept in my clothes. Frankly, I don’t remember crawling onto my bed. But Wednesday morning I jumped up! Went to a rear window in my house to look outside and saw that water was over the seawall and creeping up my back yard! And we haven’t yet had our afternoon High Tide!

Remain Calm.

I had my son put on his life jacket. Talk about calm? Zack went back to bed – wearing his life jacket. Matrix, our mastiff, knew something was going on. He never likes rain jackets, cones of shame from the vet, or anything. He cooperated putting on his life jacket. Yes, we have a doggy life jacket for him! I put on mine. I went to the window. It’s time. Not to evacuate. That time has come and gone. Not to panic. Definitely not to panic. It’s time for medication. I need a clear mind and calm demeanor. So I took a dose of Clonazepam, a highly addictive anti-anxiety medication. Remember the PTSD? Guess who’s coming for breakfast!

Then I called Don and Nancy White, my next-door neighbors. They have ridden out other storms like this one, and may be a level of comfort for us. So, I called and asked if we could wait this out, together. Graciously, they opened their home. Literally. They already had every door taped closed with waterproof Gorilla Tape. Yes, there is such a thing. But their garage door wasn’t taped, so Don was willing to let us in there. My heart sank as I opened the side door, between our houses. Water was not only up the entire back, but the street that we live on was now a river, with water also flowing up to the higher side, the front of my house. Remember the house fire? This would not be the first time that I replaced everything, so being safe, with experienced hurricane survivors, would be less stressful.

My heart sank, again, as Don opened his garage door, and we froze to watch the water rush in. Our garages are a few inches lower than the rest of our floors, so their house was not also lost. We rushed into Don and Nan’s kitchen, hugged, and made a plan.

Within an hour, Don exclaimed, “It’s pulling back!”

Not possible. We just had low tide. Which means for the next six or seven hours, the tide will be coming IN. High Tide that day was scheduled for 12:33pm, so I was about to have about five more of the longest hours of my life.

It was roughly 7:30am.

The ONE THING that the weather guys got wrong was the length of the storm surge – the water pushed to the outer bands of the storm, due to the low pressure in the center. While the depth was spot on, the speed of Idalia moved it by so fast that by the time the surge was in, it was being sucked right back out!

And the positioning of Idalia made it so that we were at the 5, 6 and 7 o’clock positions at Low Tide, the dangerous positions to be in when a hurricane is to your west, as the counter-clockwise rotation pushes water and wind to you. As Idalia moved north, towards the 7:45 am landfall that it was about to make, it sucked the water out. A few hours of damage, over.

But if you think that the scary part is over, it’s not. The Home Owner’s Insurance Industry in Florida is in a shambles. Many companies either limit their coverage in Florida or no longer cover it, at all. Remember the house fire? I’ve lived through this part, too. The logistics of having to pick up your life and make it very compact, while continuing with it at the same time. Yet my family made it out of all of the trials and tribulations from the house fire. Zack, Matrix, Don, Nan and I made it out of our respective homes, with very little damage, if any.

Most importantly, in all cases, we made it out with our lives.

And now, we are back in our hectic lives.

There’s no more Friday night hockey or high school football for me. But I’ve found plenty of other things to take their places. Now I’m a dad, whose teenaged son just left for Saturday evening roller skating with his new girlfriend and other friends from the rink.

I’m starting a podcast and talk radio station, Yergz Radio. This weekend, I take my first podcast, “Up The Middle,” into season two. This week, Jane and I will record our first episode of “Both Sides Now,” a re-boot, of sorts, from the Joni Mitchell song.

Zack, Matrix and I are going to be hosting “Davi,” a foreign exchange student from Brazil. Remember that bar room in my house? I’m moving my bedroom to the bar room for the next 10 months! That’s not a typo.

And then there are some of the other work needing to be done for the above things that are already in full swing. My own podcast needs to be promoted, researched, written, recorded, edited and overall produced. I’m managing TWO ad campaigns, currently, for it. One on Spotify, the other on grocery carts in Alexandria, Virginia, and Rehoboth Beach, Delaware.

Then, I have, literally, seven other YouTube channels, with the one dedicated to “Up The Middle,” being eight. Time to wrench on them a bit.

I’m sure that Zack and Davi will be bringing me some excitement.

I’ll keep calm, and never give up. My back is against the wall? What do you think is holding me up?!

Hectic. I wouldn’t have it any other way!

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