💰 Investigating a Pa. organization’s spending | Morning Newsletter

Happy Monday, all! Let’s get this week started.

The former head of the Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission was asked to resign as officials launched an investigation into the organization’s spending. A large expense for an awards gala was what kicked the whole thing off.

And a frightening incident of cardiac arrest before a college baseball game offered two Atlantic 10 rivals some perspective on the power of sports.

Plus, a gas explosion damaged an Overbrook Park bagel shop just two months after it suffered a similar blast, and more news of the day.

— Sam Stewart (morningnewsletter@inquirer.com)

If someone forwarded you this email, sign up for free here.

The head of Pennsylvania’s civil rights enforcement agency pressed his staff to fast-track a $20,000 payment for an NAACP awards gala, which led officials in his agency to discuss ways to sidestep rules around spending taxpayer funds, emails obtained by The Inquirer show.

The exchanges occurred about two weeks before Gov. Josh Shapiro asked Chad Dion Lassiter to resign as the head of the Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission (PHRC) and launched an investigation into the office’s spending.

State law requires payments over $10,000 to go through a formal review process. In early February, Lassiter, 53, sought to quickly expense $20,000 for two banquet tables at the NAACP’s Freedom Fund Awards ceremony on Feb. 12.

When a procurement official at PHRC pushed back on the director’s request, Lassiter reprimanded her and called her behavior “very embarrassing and problematic,” according to the emails.

After his request, PHRC staff began exploring other ways to push the payment through, according to the emails.

On the morning of Sunday, April 12, Sean Maloney was standing behind the backstop at Bill Beck Field in Kingston, R.I. He was there to support his son, Evan, the University of Rhode Island’s scheduled starting pitcher against La Salle.

With the first pitch approaching, Maloney and his 82-year-old father, Dennis, found their seats on the berm. Just two minutes later, Dennis slid backward. His eyes shut and his skin turned gray. The buzz within the ballpark stopped before a spectator’s scream for help cut through the silence.

Griffin Pyott was first to arrive. The La Salle trainer checked Dennis’ pulse on his upper arm. Within seconds, University of Rhode Island trainer Yuichiro Hidaka was by Dennis’ side with an automated external defibrillator. Firefighter Gerard Moroney, the father of URI shortstop Reece Moroney, sat across from Hidaka.

With their combined efforts, Dennis, a man who was medically deceased for a minute, survived. One month later, he’s grateful to be alive. And his son is certain a higher power played a role.

On Saturday night, the Flyers suffered a 3-2 overtime loss to the Carolina Hurricanes. But despite that, fans stayed in the arena and cheered on our young team — even giving the players a standing ovation.

Who was the esteemed golfer and architect that designed the Aronimink course?

A) Donald Ross

B) Keegan Bradley

C) Robert Wheeler Wilson

D) Gil Hanse

Think you know? Check your answer.

😮 Amazed by: Ghostly 3D images that bring Philadelphia’s 1876 World’s Fair back to life.

⚾ Jealous of: All the baseball cards that employees of Olney’s Fleer factory snuck out before the business closed in 1996.

💍 Celebrating: A couple who got engaged after finishing the 5K race at the ninth annual Eagles Autism Challenge. Congratulations, Chelsea Trewella and Andrew Sulkowski!

Hint: Home to the ongoing exhibition, “No Arena: Making a Movement.”

ACTS LILIANA SARENA

Email us if you know the answer. We’ll select a reader at random to shout out here.

Cheers to Kenny Cherrin, who solved Sunday’s anagram: Pennsylvania Hospital. The nation’s oldest chartered hospital opened its new museum on Friday, giving visitors a look into historic medical firsts in restored fixtures of the past.

Think back to the night that changed your life that could only happen in Philly, a true example of the Philly spirit, the time you finally felt like you belonged in Philly if you’re not a lifer, something that made you fall in love with Philly all over again — or proud to be from here if you are. Then email it to us for a chance to be featured in the Monday edition of this newsletter.

This “only in Philly” story comes from reader Michael Thomas Leibrandt, who describes our city’s history:

While strolling around Center City on a cool April evening — with the last pockets of fading winter frost accumulating on the street signs and as darkness is accompanied only by the sound of swirling wind passing through the open space between some of Philadelphia’s tallest buildings — the skeletal remains of a deep piece of our city’s history glows with yellow illumination against the night sky. It’s a site that captures my gaze each and every time that I pass by it.

If you walked those same Philadelphia streets in the 1770s, Mary Lawrence Master’s House would have been a site that caught your eye for a very different reason. Around the very center of William Penn’s metropolis sat a home whose external and internal beauty was nearly irresistible to the likes of George Washington, Robert Morris, and even the commander of the British Army who was charge of the occupation of the city in 1777.

Its nearly four-story Flemish bond brick exterior stood at the corner of 6th and Market, drawing your gaze to the colonial-era domicile complete with an elegant exterior wall and complementary wrought iron gates topped with decorative cornices. At its threshold marble steps greeted everyone from the likes of Washington to Benjamin Franklin to William Penn’s grandson.

What we now know is that this gorgeous example of early Philadelphia architecture was itself a facade. Like the city itself, its remaining foundation in the open-air exhibit still serves as a monument to not only some of our most significant history, but also some of its worst.

Inside the house was a site of slavery in Philadelphia, and secret correspondences of sedition by Benedict Arnold. It even was the location where President John Adams would sign the Alien and Sedition Acts — which are still in our news cycle today.

It remains to be seen how long it will take for all of the educational exhibits to finally be restored after recent legal battles. No matter the outcome, at 6th and Market, the past will remain.

I’ve always enjoyed taking a walk down memory lane. 👋 Have a great day, folks!

By submitting your written, visual, and/or audio contributions, you agree to The Inquirer’s Terms of Use, including the grant of rights in Section 10.