Ion Puschila is a history teacher at Pomona’s Garey High, where everyone calls him Mr. P. We’re friends. Not only does he read the newspaper, we are both regulars at Mi Cafecito, a downtown coffeehouse. When we bump into each other there, he insists on buying me a coffee as thanks for what I do.
He bought me a coffee last week too. But not in Pomona. We met up in my hometown of Olney, Illinois, which is 1,918 miles away.
Each June, Puschila drives cross-country to Cincinnati. Not for five-way chili, but to see his fiancee, whom he met in Pomona. Then he drives to Kansas City for history teacher stuff. Both legs of the journey take him through southern Illinois.
On June 9, 2023, he drove 30 miles out of his way to see Olney. Olney, the county seat, has 9,000 people, the same population it’s had, give or take, for the past five decades. If you’re tired of change, Olney might be for you.
At Ophelia’s Cup, the town’s coffeehouse, Puschila got what he always gets, a quadruple-shot espresso. He marveled at the historic marker noting that Lincoln and Douglas appeared in Olney in 1856. Then he headed out.
This year my annual trip home was in the first half of June, a little earlier than last year. I flew into St. Louis, where I spent a few days visiting haunts old and new with my parents, who’d driven the 150 miles from Olney to meet me.
Baseball was a must. With my brother and my sister-in-law, I was at Busch Stadium on June 7 to cheer on the Cardinals. The Cardinals won, unusually. (It helped that they were playing the Colorado Rockies.)
We headed to Olney on June 8. From Cincinnati, Puschila texted to ask if I would be in Olney on June 10 as he headed to Kansas City. Amazingly, I would be. What were the odds? I was returning to St. Louis and the airport on June 11.
I explained to my parents that I would be busy for breakfast because I was meeting a friend from Pomona. They took it in stride.
Puschila texted at 5:30 a.m. that he was on the road and would arrive at 9 a.m. at Ophelia’s Cup.
The coffeehouse opened in 2002. It’s got mismatched furniture, a few board games and joke signs on the walls. You can even get avocado toast there. Making Ophelia’s more of a haven, there is no Starbucks for 45 miles.
I’ve visited Ophelia’s annually now that my parents live in town again. They returned in 2022 to Olney, where I grew up, after moving near St. Louis in 2008.
On my mile walk to downtown I paused to pay homage to three businesses, all long gone, where I spent portions of my youth: Beal’s News Agency, where I bought my Marvel comic books; Little Farm Market, where I bought my DC comic books; and Double-R Book Nook, a used bookstore that doubled as a chicken hatchery.
The lettering for Double-R is still on the windows after all these years. I took a photo.
A few minutes before 9 a.m., I claimed a sidewalk seat outside Ophelia’s, connected to the wifi and read my newspaper on my phone. An older man parked his car. “Hello,” he said as he walked by, and smiled.
Startled, I gave him a “hello” back. Olney is the kind of town where people will guilelessly and unironically say “hello” to complete strangers.
Right on schedule, Puschila pulled up in his black Honda Civic. He got out and crossed the street, laughing, as I took action photos to document the moment.
To make him feel at home, I was wearing a Pomona T-shirt. He appreciated the gesture.
Inside, I offered to buy him breakfast. But because he was on his way to Kansas City to grade AP College Board tests, he said he would get reimbursed for expenses. So, once again, he insisted on paying.
At the counter, I asked for the vegetarian breakfast quesadilla. He asked for the three-meat breakfast quesadilla. I remarked: “Are our orders canceling each other out?”
He also got his quadruple-shot espresso.
We caught up at an inside table. And when one of the owners stopped by to ask how we’d liked everything, Puschila was effusive in his praise. This was his second annual visit. He’s now a repeat customer.
Outside, we took selfies by a statue of a white squirrel, the town’s mascot, and by an Olney history mural. There’s a whole series of murals, all professionally done, all in pristine condition.
Olney has virtually no graffiti. This is either because Olney is a pleasant place where people are respectful, or because there are so few stores, no one can buy spray paint.
Puschila, who is Romanian, graduated from Cal Poly Pomona. He’s taught for Pomona Unified for 33 years. He plans to retire next year and move to the Cincinnati area. He thinks he’s taught 5,000 students in his career.
“I run into them everywhere,” he said as we crossed Main Street. “I’m at a bar and someone will say, ‘Mr. P! Class of ’93!’”
Standing by his car, I was amused by all the bumper stickers fore and aft. One read “909.” Another was for Pomona Valley Runners. Another for IE Arts. And here I was, reading them in my hometown.
Puschila and I shook hands. Fueled by his quadruple-shot espresso, he drove off. I’ll see him back in Pomona.
David Allen writes Wednesday, Friday and Sunday, now that he’s back from vacation. Email dallen@scng.com, phone 909-483-9339, like davidallencolumnist on Facebook and follow @davidallen909 on X.
