the history of the Cressona Tunnel

The history of the Cressona Tunnel

West Haven, or as it is now known as the borough of Cressona*, is divided into two parts. East Cressona is the industrious section and home of the Aluminum plant, Schuylkill Products and Trail Gardens Center. West Cressona has the Dodge City Café. Both sides however need the other. To get from one side to the other was never easy. To correct this, the borough’s founding fathers had a tunnel constructed along Route 183. The tunnel now hosts approximately 120,000 vehicles every day. Mostly these vehicles consist of Walmart trucks as well as passenger cars filled with elderly people travelling to Bill’s Produce to purchase fresh fruit for their daily fiber intake as well as those of us who headed to the Dodge City Café for happy hour.

The tunnel became world famous when the producers of the video game Grand Theft Auto III used the entrance of the tunnel in the video game. Later the tunnel had a cameo appearance in the video game Donkey Kong. The tunnel also gained notoriety for being reversible on all major British holidays. On those days, such as Boxing Day, drivers will drive through the tunnel on the left side rather than the right. It is a spectacle to watch.

The tunnel was financed through a combination of revenue bonds, S& H Green stamps and soda bottle deposits. Ideas for the tunnel appeared as early as 1840, but soda bottles with a deposit hadn’t been invented yet, nor was glue and the S & H Green stamps would fall out of the books and onto the floor.

Since its construction in the early part of the 20^th century, the tunnel has faced several problems. First it was the management and control of the toll booths. The toll booths were necessary to recoup the construction and maintenance costs, retire the revenue bonds issued, and return the staggering amount of soda bottles that were left along the roadside waiting to be redeemed. However the toll booths caused serious traffic back-ups. Eventually both of the booths were pillaged and burned by irate travelers, especially by those irritable elderly travelers in search of reasonably fresh fruit to maintain regularity. Today, the toll booths are a part of history and anyone using the tunnel is now required to have an E-Z Pass device.

The most serious problem with the tunnel is that it was not built high enough and the enormous size of todays trucks transporting stuff for consumers to buy resulted in hundreds of trucks stuck within the tunnel. Three years ago one truck loaded with whoopee cushions remained lodged within the tunnel for seventy-two hours, creating a massive traffic jam as well as a whoopee cushion shortage within the county.

It was decided that warning signals needed to be erected. Proposal after proposal was given a try. The first proposal was to construct a large piñata in front of both sides of the tunnel. This was a failure as truckers deliberately hit the piñata and then stopped to pick up the candy that spilled out before getting the truck stuck in the tunnel. The second proposal was to hang a trucker in front of the tunnel. This lasted only one week due to the protests from various human rights organizations and other do-gooders. Finally the Cressona Borough officials, after listening to the scientists who espoused the theory that watching Sponge Bob slows a person down, decided to utilize the system that is in place now, despite the substantial copyright fees that must be paid with cash, S & H Green Stamps or unreturned soda bottles. No further disruption of the tunnel traffic has occurred since.

* from the word "cresson" meaning a moderately yellow-green color.

Bieber Day, September 18th

I was looking at the list of upcoming events occurring in Schuylkill County in September and I was intrigued by the Bieber Day Celebration in Pottsville. This year it will be on September 18^th as the event changes every year. The change is caused by a combination of the phase of the moon, the alignment of Jupiter and Uranus as well as the midget football schedule. This is according to the Pottsville Planetarium and the midget athletic department.

Why Bieber Day? Why Pottsville? What is the connection? No one is quite sure as there has never been a celebration of one particular individual in the county’s history. Not for John O’Hara, not for Tommy Dorsey, and not for Conrad Richter. A celebration to honor WPPA's radio legend, Wee Willie Whistle, although planned for October 1962 had been cancelled due to the Cuban Missile crisis as well as conflict with the midget football schedule.

This young Canadian pop star has never performed in the county seat. Not at the Sovereign Majestic Theatre, not at the Hippodrome, not at Goodfellas (which technically is not in the county seat but in an appendix to the county seat). Pottsvillians immediately took a shine to the young mop top singing sensation and they agreed to set aside one day in the month of September to honor him. On Bieber Day people from all walks of life will put aside their daily activities. Men will get up from their lazy boys, put out their cigarettes, and turn off their televisions sets. Women also get up from their lazy boys, put out their cigarettes, and turn of their television sets in the other rooms. They will gather together within the garden park that bears the youngster’s name, swaying back and forth to the strains of the Third Brigade Band’s melodic interpretations of his greatest hits. Hits that we all have come to know by heart and now part of the soundtrack of our lives.

Remember the feelings that you had when you first saw the scene in the film Casablanca when Victor Laslo began to sing “La Marseillaise” in defiance of the Germans? Remember how you felt when you watched that for the first time? Do you also remember the feelings that you had when you had your first hole in one at Heisler’s Miniature Golf Course? Now throw in the feelings that you had when your cell phone was in your pocket and it rang and it was set on vibrate? Well multiply all of those feelings by nine and one-half and then divide that by seven and then take the square root of that. This is the level of excitement you will have when you enter the park and participate in your first Bieber Day celebration. You will get a hint of the exhilaration awaiting you as you travel up Market Street after spending the earlier part of the day at Renninger’s Market with the rest of us. You will spot the mini-jams, guerilla dances, and Bieber hair pieces all over the place. This is nothing compared to the goings on within the park where each and every one of us is a player.

This year, Bieber Day is on September 18^th, - coincidentally the 41^st anniversary of the death of a great American guitarist, singer and songwriter- so a special bagpipe salute will occur at 6:50 which will feature lively but respectful renditions of Jimi Hendrix classics such as “Purple Haze” and “Are You Experienced.” This poignant performance should attract those of you old enough to remember Jimi Hendrix, John O’Hara, Tommy Dorsey, Conrad Richter as well as radio personality Wee Willie Whistle. It should also attract those of you who couldn’t care less about Justin Bieber.

At the time this blog is posted it was unclear whether the fire marshal would issue a waiver to allow the musician to spontaneously pour lighter fluid on his bagpipes, burn and smash them on the stage, and then throw the remnants into the audience as his grand finale. Those of us who deny that the bagpipes are really a musical instrument hope the waiver is granted. Pronto. That alone would be worth the price of admission.

earthquake

EARTHQUAKE IN POTTSVILLE AND SCHUYLKILL COUNTY

Yes, I am one of the survivors of the earthquake that pulverized Schuylkill County on Tuesday August 23^rd. I felt the earth move under my feet. But I am still alive to tell my story. I had the same sensation about ten years ago when Mount Laffee erupted. Ialso had a similar sensation the other day when my cell phone rang and I had it set on "vibrate."

I felt the sky tumbling down so I knew inside of me that something terribly was wrong.

When I began to sway after I left the Eagle’s Club on South Second Street in Pottsville in mid-afternoon I had a feeling of remorse. I kept saying to myself, “Why did I pay my school taxes already?” “Is it too late to stop payment on my check?”

As I made my way up Mahantongo Street I sat down and cried as I looked upon the devastation. Once a beautiful townhouse, the structure began to tumble down before me. There was nothing I could do. I felt sorrow for the absentee landowner, knowing that his beloved building can never be salvaged.

I made my way down to West Market Street and found that a beautiful brick residence was also in ruins. If you on Market Street it is across from Yanick’s garage. You can't miss it. Apparently the roof collapsed onto the porch. Luckily, anyone inside got out alive. It is quite a setback for the city as it is now an eyesore on what once was an attractive street. “What has Pottsville done to deserve such a wrath of God?” “Can Congressman Holden help these poor absentee property owners get federal aid?” “Can Barefield Development come to the rescue?” I hoped that the Code Enforcement Office would give the owner some slack in making repairs. Could this be our Katrina? We need federal assistance right away.

It wasn’t just Pottsville. Someone told me that there are areas around Shenandoah, particularly the Lost Creek and William Penn area that were hard hit. Others said it wasn’t true, as that area prefers to look that way.

In any event I pushed my way through the ruble and worked my way up to the courthouse. The place was hard hit by the tremors. It was reported that about half of the employees were awakened from sound sleep. It may take months for normal sleeping patterns to resume. The only good news at the courthouse was one employee who was adament that the earthquake cured her hiccups.

When I arrived, Grief Counselors were already on site. I told the grief counselor that I felt guilty paying my school taxes before the taxes were due in light of the impending Rapture or Apocalypse. I told the counselor that I had so much to live for. There was a splash party for dogs at JFK Pool on Saturday and I wanted to attend with my pit bull. “Would it be cancelled?” “What about the brick that I purchased for the Courthouse in honor of the bicentennial?” “Would I ever get to gather my family around for the formal dedication?” I was paranoid that the brick mason would misspell my name on the brick and I wanted to see it and touch it before it was placed into the courtyard. The counselor told me to take six deep breathes and get the hell out of his office as no one on the courthouse payroll is buying a brick.

I was afraid to sleep in my own house that night, not because of a fear of an aftershock, but because Mammy Trout was upset that I spent so much time at the Eagle's Bar. I made my way to Pocket Park and fell into a deep sleep.

Pocket Park

It will be several more weeks until the city of Pottsville unveils the name of its newest park located on North Centre Street across from the YMCA. Anticipation is building and already the city bookies are giving odds on some of the names in contention. I am not sure what all the criteria consists of for naming the park - now informally called Pocket Park. I sort of like the name Pocket Park and I would appreciate it if they just left the name alone. I have written a letter to the city requesting that it be officially be dedicated Pocket Park. However I was told that odds are one in three in favor of it being called El Parque de McGeever and two in six that it will be Barfield Park. Odds for it to remain Pocket Park are one in ten thousand. Not too good.

Parks don’t have to be named after people. Think about Central Park, Jellstone Park, the Boston Commons, Jurassic Park, Washington’s National Mall, Itchycoo Park or San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park. Pottsville can have its Pocket Park. I think there was a clown from the area called Pockets, so maybe he can honored if a person has to be honored. This way the name can remain the same but I don't think it is necessary.

Someone told me that what the city officials are generally looking for is a person. Not just any old person; preferably a living person, a friend, who is in need of an ego boost; if not, one that was recently living and who would still appreciate an ego boost posthumously. Personally I am against naming any public property after a living person or a recently departed person but I am in the minority.

The person to be honored must definitely be a man of course. Preferably a good old boy. Nothing in the city has ever been named after a woman and rightfully so. This policy stems, not from Sharia Law or Eve tempting Adam, but from the incident in 1807 when Maria Pott, the wife of city founder, John Pott, refused to attend the first American Way Fair with her husband. She said she hated the rides and she hated funnel cake even more. The chief burgess was so incensed that he introduced an ordinance banning the naming of any public property after any female from that day forward. The ordinance remains on the books today. Just like the ordinance that bans electronic billboards within the city. Look around and try to find anything named after a woman or try to find an electric billboard. You won’t find any and you never will. In a local hospital you will find a room named after Judge McCloskey and all our elementary school is named after John S. Clarke, who ran a garage I believe, but nothing after any women, even though most of hospitals and schools were staffed by women over the years. It’s forbidden to name anything after a woman other than a hurricane and the city is very strict on enforcing its ordinances. If the ordinance was repealed, Amanda Silliman would be a great example of a woman to be honored. She heroically assisted in giving aid to wounded civil war soldiers and at times risked her own life doing so. It is the 150th anniversary of the civil war and an appropriate time to honor her. She was also the first principal of the female grammar school on Centre Street. She is ineligible though because of Maria Potts' refusal to go to that fair that one partly cloudy day in May 1807 because she hated the horse-drawn tilt-a-whirl.

I was thinking that the Going My Way Bar that once graced the location of the park and featured some of the city’s first go-go girls. Top notch entertainment. These were female dancers who danced to vinyl records -predecessors to today's pole dancers - and they were trend setters in fashion; most of what is taken for granted today for normal female attire among the young ( and even not so young) stems from these go-go girls. I was planning to write a letter in support of one of my favorite dancers at the Going My Way, who really shook the floor when she danced to the Stones’ “Brown Sugar.” Maybe the park could be named after her. It’s a pity that ordinance remains on the books. Blame it on Maria Potts and her distaste for funnel cake.

I was told that there is one in ten odds in favor of “Justice Charles Moran Park” but while his credentials are very strong, it must be ruled out as his district did not encompass North Centre Street. Another Park will have to be built in the Yorkville Section for that to happen. Where is revenue sharing when we need it?

Someone said, “why not name it after a person of some national recognition?” To them I say why don’t you build your own park then. General Joulwan has his park and he is nationally known. That is enough for this city to handle. Anyway can you name any other person of national prominence from Pottsville? And don’t be bringing up some civil war generals or city founders as the criterion requires that the man must have lived in the period from 1960 to the present, and preferably a member of the Hibernians (while not absolutely necessary it sure does help). There is no one I can think of. Anyway, nothing of importance happened around here before 1960. It was a depressing time around here. Section 8 hadn't yet been invented. I think Section 2 1/2 was in effect. It was a time that people swept their sidewalks and took pride in their own property; these people were neighborly, and like me, frequented the downtown bookies to purchase their daily number tickets while shopping at the dazzling amount of busy stores, rather than sitting in front of computers to do on-line gambling and shopping. A sickening time indeed.

I got a great idea. I was thinking of that Rocking Horse Charles fellow that used to grace Centre Street. It was during an era when our charismatic street people were known to us on a first name basis. Rocking Horse Park has a ring to it. In fact I like it more than Pocket Park. I think I will write another letter to City Hall and suggest Rocking Horse Park. He was a man (not necessarily a Hibernian, but don't hold that against him) who had no national claim-to-fame but who certainly would appreciate an ego boost.

Reflection on summer events

Winning! I have completed my stay in rehab and have returned to Schuylkill County.

My first stop was the Eagles Club in Pottsville. My second stop was the Yuengling Dairy on Mahantongo Street where I indulged myself with a double scoop of Prothonocherry Ice Cream.

What did I miss while I was in rehab? For one thing, I was informed that a local tax collector was busted for allegedly having sticky fingers. This saddened me as I am a big supporter of the profession of local tax collector and recommend it to any school age child who has the wear-with-all and skills to open envelopes. Schuylkill County has at least sixty six other local tax collectors, all elected by the people and for the people, so one fallen angel won’t be missed but if there is a problem then I suggest a senior tax collector can be brought out of retirement to fill the void.

People don’t realize that it is a lot of work opening those envelopes and marking “paid” into the ledger.

Some naysayers have even argued that the position of an elected tax collector for each municipality should be abolished but I believe having a tax collector that lives in the neighborhood offers us all a sense of comfort and security. I bet you do too. I hate sending my Comcast, PPL and ATT bills to some anonymous person in some distant city. I would prefer a local Comcast, PPL and ATT bill collector in every municipality.... I take that back.... On second thought I would prefer a distant Comcast bill collector rather than some local blabbermouth telling everyone how many Spice Channel movies I pay for every month. So maybe just a local PPL and ATT bill collector. Scratch a local Comcast bill collector for now. The further away, the better.

What else did I miss while in rehab? Well, the big headline in the local paper announcing the closing of Minersville’s Frank and Burger Restaurant. This announcement is one of the biggest blows to the county economy since the closing of Argo Mills and the Schuylkill Haven Bounce-O-Rama ( note: the Argo Mills and Bounce-O-Rama did not close simultaneously) and this can have a far reaching impact on the county’s fragile economy as well as the flegling local wedding planning industry.

One local woman, standing on her front porch, expressed concern about how the closing will affect her, the neighbors, the other businesses in the borough and the general way of life in the community.

“It’s gonna hurt,” she said, “we are all struggling with the news…we are all crying and – you know, nervous. The County Commissioners had promised to send in grief counselors, but I have yet to see one. I plan to write a letter to our Congressman to see what he can do for us. This is worst than Katrina.”

I am showing my age when I confess that I am old enough to remember the time before “the big merger.” At one time there was a hot dog restaurant and then there was the hamburger restaurant. Hot dogs and hamburgers were not allowed to be sold at one restaurant simultaneously in Schuylkill County. Many youngsters don't realize this and take it for granted. Shame on them.

In time the two restaurants eventually merged, but not without a fight. Supporters of the merger argued that that it was a-bun-dantly unfair for an individual who wanted to both dine on a frankfurter and a hamburger to have to make two stops. They were frank and upfront with their complaints and the County Commissioners did not relish a fight and eventually approved the merger; stating that the Sherman Anti-trust law did not apply. Sharia or Murphy's Law did not apply either. Hot dogs and hamburgers could be sold on one menu in one restaurant at one time to one individual. And soon afterwards, spaghetti could be served with meatballs. It was a liberating feeling that we all shared. I remember the jubilant crowds filling up Sunbury Street, bigger than when the local softball team wins.

Now, with the demise of the Frank and Burger Restaurant, efforts are underway to make sure the people of Minersville are not without hot dogs and burgers. STS busses will have special runs between Coney Island in Yorkville and Minersville, where they will be met by special grief counselors hired through a summer work program.

Breaking News! Trout enters rehab

Unheralded and superficial dilettante, bb trout, is asking for a temporary leave of absence from his blog while he seeks professional treatment in the wake of his Twitter scandal.

His so-called common law wife, Mammie Trout, said that he would leave for professional treatment after he picks up a dozen sticky buns at Renninger’s Market, and will focus on "becoming a better common law husband and healthier person, probably in that order, but it is too early to say for sure."

The statement doesn't say what Trout would be treated for. There are conflicting stories circulating about his on-going sticky bun addiction as well as his inappropriate tweets and pokes. Schuylkill County's Warne Clinic, by the way, is noted for the treatment of food addictions and trout had been treated there in the past for bleenia (obsessive consumption of potato pancakes, preferably with onions). It is rumored that trout may be admitted there under an alias.

Just before the release of the statement, the leading Schuylkill County officials demanded that Trout step down as publisher of his blog and give up plans to run for Jury Commissioner in 2013.

"This sordid affair has become an unacceptable distraction for Mr. Trout, his so-called common law wife, and the children he sired through multiple relationships, including one with his cleaning lady. It is time for him to quit and get out of here. The office of county jury commissioner demands more of a candidate.”
Before Saturday afternoon's developments, trout told reporters in Pine Grove that "I have to redeem myself and I am going to try to get back to work. I let people down by failing to attend the Kiebossi Festival the other week. Sorry, folks! I will make it up to you. I also apologize to the five or six people who follow the blog religiously and were expecting a new article in early June."
Mr Trout’s handling of the scandal has been a public relations disaster. On Tuesday, he argued with a WPAM correspondent outside the Eagle’s Club on South Second Street in Pottsville, at one point calling the producer a “stick in the mud” and an “upstart” By Wednesday, he changed tactics, apologizing. He did interviews with WPPA, WMBT, and Sam Lasante. His attempts to inject humor into the controversy fell flat. “When your name is Trout, you get a lot of people who think everything you say sounds fishy. I made a total bass out of myself,” he told Sam.

Most puzzling to the media was Mr trout’s claim that he “could not say with certitude” whether the underwear in the photograph were his. “Don’t be koi, trout! You would know if this was your underpants, Didn't you notice the JP Morgan label? Isn't it true that you only wear underpants made in Tamaqua? It's time to come clean, Mr. Trout,” Lasante said incredulously as he waived the incriminating photograph in front of him.

Trout insisted that his Twitter, Facebook, and MySpace accounts had all been hacked and that he had been a victim of prank, joke or hoax by his opponents who were trying to sabotage his expected run for the office of jury commissioner in 2013 by sending tweets out to the entire membership of the Frackville D.A.R., the Sisters of Christian Charity and the Pine Grove Eastern Star. "I've been punked!"

It was Saturday that he fessed up to all of the photographs, prompting the release of the statement from Mammie Trout, his so-called common-law wife (who is finally getting some sympathy from the public). Apparently his problem began many years ago, before their on-again, off-again relationship had even started. It was at that time (long before Al Gore invented the internet) that trout drew an explicit self-portrait of himself on his Etch-A-Sketch and passed it around the Eagle's Club for all to see.
Apparently he spiralled downwards ever since.

The breaking point was his tweeting of an interesting close-up photo (taken in his house) of his junk.

CSI: Mahantongo Street

I read with amusement the Republican Herald article regarding the over-reaction of a few people to a falling bricks from two properties on Mahantongo Street in Pottsville –"La ville qui ne dort jamais mais se baigne de temps en temps."*

Apparently some busybody neighbor called the police trying to get these property owners in trouble. Why can’t people just mind their own business? Personally I enjoy the skankiness, grittiness and creepiness of parts of Mahantongo Street, but not necessarily in that order.

For those of you who missed the story, here it is with my analysis (thank you Republican Herald):

1. City police rushed to the 800 block of Mahantongo Street on Tuesday afternoon as a 6-by-4-foot section of a brick facade connecting two vacant row homes crumbled to the sidewalk.
Why were the police rushing? Did they think the bricks would make a quick get-away? Is it true they tasered a fallen brick and dusted for finger prints? Were Miranda warnings given to the bricks? So many questions, so few answers.

2.”… City Code Enforcement Officer Donald J. Chescavage said it was just the brick facade connecting addresses 802 and 804. City officials have been trying to get the property owners to repair those facades for a few months.
Fixing up a property to meet code requirements takes time - years and maybe decades in this economy. Some of us enjoy watching buildings decay and collapse along with neighboring property values. It is a cheap form of entertainment.

3. "When we saw there was a problem there a few months ago, we sent letters to both property owners telling them they better get together on this and work together…" Chescavage said.
Rumors are that the first letter was a valentine. A second valentine will be sent out next year but more stern. I also understand that the people who “noticed” problems ten years ago will be sent to re-education camps as problems only existed “for a few months.” The photographs on my website showing the tree growing out of the basement taken over the years have all been denounced as hoaxes and I am scheduled for summer re-education camp this July.

4. According to the online Schuylkill Parcel Locator, 802 Mahantongo St. is owned by Gregory E. Wagner, 310 Highland Drive, Pottsville; and 804 Mahantongo St. is owned by Edward and Ethel Schappel, 801 Mahantongo St.
For too many years Mahantongo Street suffered from a prissy and stodgy image perpetrated upon the world by novelist John O’Hara. These property owners should be commended for helping the street shed this worn-out image.

5. Yellow police tape had been stretched across the fronts of both properties, prior to Tuesday's collapse.
What about twenty four hour police or shade tree commission protection for the tree growing from the basement?

6. A neighbor called the Schuylkill County Communications Center at 5:26 p.m. Tuesday, reporting a "building collapse," according to a supervisor at the communications center.
I always thought that filing a false police report is a criminal offense. I demand an immediate investigation of the person who called in the report and the book should be thrown at him or her (as well as a few façade bricks).

7. City police immediately sealed traffic access to the 700, 800 and 900 blocks of Mahantongo Street, and Chescavage and Dan Kelly, the city superintendent of streets, were called to evaluate the situation.
Evaluation? Just place a few pedestrians on the sidewalk and watch if they get hit on the head. If so, tell them to walk on the other side of the street. No problem. Maybe it will knock some sense into them.

8. Chescavage assured police the buildings would not collapse.
Thank God! Now we can all sleep well tonight.

9. …Chescavage and Kelly advised them to block the sidewalk in front of the properties with wooden horses.
Where do you expect these property owners who have now suffered the humiliation of having a false police report lodged against them and their names splashed in the newspaper to find “wooden horses”? Lakewood Park’s Carousel was sold decades ago and the wooden horse that once graced the window of Knapp’s Leather Goods went west years ago. Isn’t there some PADCO money available for the purchase of wooden horses and other assistance for these people?


10. Meanwhile, Chescavage said he's going to step up efforts to get the property owners to get to work on these properties. .................. The Valentine will be sent out earlier next year, much sterner.

*“The City that never sleeps but occasionally bathes”

a bad day at the donut shop

With the recent release of the Mayor of Mount Carbon’s long form birth certificate proving that he is indeed the youngest mayor ever elected, some have moved onto other topics such as the mysterious crop circles in the Lewistown Valley. But not me.
I spend most of my time ease-dropping on the conversations of others while at Dunkin’ Donuts. I learn a lot this way. I discovered the truth about the Freemasons, the Oddfellows, the Knights of Columbus, the Hibernians, Teen-Age Republicans, the 4-H, and the Eastern Star- just be being a busybody.

From my ease-dropping, I now know that there is a new group attempting to control our county….It is a shadowy group, a modern incarnation of the age-old Iluminati...a group of masterminds plotting to create a New County Order.

The other day, I saw these individuals enter the Donut Shop, I saw them place the same order. Double cocoa kreme puff donuts…two of them…large coffees with half and half. They gathered around the same table, sitting in a rectangular formation. They ate their donuts and drank their coffee while talking about the upcoming election. But there is no emotion. None. Just the pretense of it. Their words, their gestures, everything else is the same. There is no feeling. Not like me when I eat a double cocoa kreme puff donut. Whoo Hoo! Something is passing between them all, some secret. It's a conspiracy, I know it.

I cautiously watched them from behind my newspaper. I read the Pottsville Republican. I pretended to read Doctor Gott’s column on curing flatulence and then a column by Ione Geier who recalled about the night that Tubby Allen go the salt and pepper shakers mixed up at the Pottsville Club.
I glanced over nervously. The men continued to eat their donuts. I thought to myself, “I hope they don’t notice me.” I began to perspire profusely. I occasionally took a bite out of my Apple Cheese Danish and washed it down with coffee. The coffee was hot and black. Just like the coffee the men at the table were drinking. Just like a woman I met down in New Orleans thirty years ago, but that is another story. I overheard some of their conversation. They discussed the eventual take-over of the county. Who? Who is going to take over the county? I started to choke on my Apple Cheese Danish. I told the concerned waitress that I did not need the Heimlich maneuver, but thanked her anyway and told her that I would take a rain check on that. She did bring me a glass of water. It was fluoridated! I refused to drink it. I spit it out. Wouldn't you?
I watched them get up and leave the table. I slowly walked over, I looked down…hmmm….left behind were donut crumbs, a TV Guide and a miserly tip. “Why seventeen cents?” What is the significance? Of course, the primary is on the.... 17th! BUT why TV Guide? I realized that I was onto something really big.

Something is going to happen. It is already in process. I need to get the word out. Who is taking over the county? Who would want to take over the county? Would it be coal operators bent on transforming the entire county into one big Wadesville, having us work fourteen hour days below ground and making us do all our shopping at the company stores rather than at Walmart? Would my daughter, Santana be destined to become a "breaker girl" and have to give up her dreams of becoming a pole dancer? Would it be the railroad operators? Nah….scratch that…. Would it be the brewers? They once had a lot of clout. Nah….The Gas Industry already controls the rest of the state. Nah, not them....I picked up the TV Guide. I noticed that the Food Channel shows were all circled. Yes! I found the clue I was looking for. Then it dawned on me….

"County Commissioner candidate, Gary Hess is connected to food catering...
Controller candidate Brad Petchulis is connected to the sale of meats....Controller candidate Christy D. Joy is connected to catering....The current sheriff is connected to catering....
County Commissioner candidate Larry Padora is in the bakery business.....The County has just published a... cook book!...what kind of recipes do they have is store for us little people?... I have to have that cookbook..I need to get one right away....sooner or later we'll, all of us, be on the menu.... All of us."

Is this the start of the New County Order? If the food industry gets a stranglehold on the county what does it mean? Is it the end of the Atkins Diet? Will all of the gyms and health clubs be shut down? Will the prices of halupkies be artificially manipulated? God help us if they are! Is this a desperate attempt to bring the shadowy Mrs. T back to power so that she can rule over us as if she was Eva Peron, Imelda Marcos or that mysterious female Jury Commissioner we never see? Will it be like that Twilight Zone episode where the Kanamit aliens come down to earth to harvest mankind for some sort of intergaltic gumbo? I dropped the TV Guide, took one more bite of my danish. Whoo Hoo! I quickly exited the Donut Shop, running up and down Westwood Boulevard with my hands frantically waving back and forth, yelling at the top of my voice to anyone who would listen to me. Will you? Please listen to me....This is even bigger than the Mount Carbon birth certificate story.