Jackson Street (part 3)

There are numerous lessons to be learned from the shut down of Jackson Street. You know, when the street was closed after the untimely passing of the King of Pop by the crowds that held round-the-clock vigils.

First of all we realize the importance of Jackson Street as a vital city thoroughfare. Never again will it be taken for granted. This Street has often been compared to Paris' rue Notre Dame des Champs; it had been the center of intellectual and cultural life when the city had such life. In fact, during the 1950s and 1960s Mickey's Fountainette, on the corner of Jackson and Norwegian Streets, was the gathering place of young teens who flocked to the city; these youngsters were known as une generation perdue ( or 'the baby booming lost generation').

It was a great time to be young and alive in the City of Light beer.

At Mickey's Fountainette, the idealistic, gawky young people ate hamburgers, drank Slushies, smoked cigarettes, read comic books, chewed gum, laughed and loved (not necessarily in that order) while being seranaded by the music of Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs which bellowed from the corner juke box....

"Matty told Hatty about a thing she saw.

Had two big horns and a wooly jaw... Wooly bully, wooly bully...."

Hemingway was probably correct when he wrote, "there is never ever an ending to Pottsville, and the memory of each person who lived there differs from that of every other."

Pottsville in the early and mid-20th century was indeed a grand locale. It was full of euphoria, youth and enthusiasm (not necessarily in that order).

For that reason alone it is imperative that we keep Jackson Street open at all times. Anyone blocking the street should be dealt with swiftly and harshly. I suggest horsewhipping.

Secondly, the city officials must be commended for performing superbly under extreme pressure by launching the flawless "Operation Vittles," with helicopters from the 14th Street Heliport joining the aircraft from Zerbey International Airport to deliver boxes of pizza and hoagies (some hot, but mainly plain; some without onions) to the citizens of Greenwood Hill, dropping the foodstuff by handkerchief parachutes. Lest we forget, Bohorad's Store must be commended for donating the needed hankerchiefs. This certainly boosted moral of the Greenies, who felt isolated, depressed and abandoned (not necessarily in that order); not knowing if they would have to spend a weekend watching the Phillies on television without any of their favorite fast foods. Television is shallow and empty without lots of food to eat, especially if you are watching a baseball game. These resilient people could not break through the hysterical crowd of humanity that closed off Jackson Street from one end to the other. Pizza and hoagies were beyond their grasp.

I was told that discussions are already underway to commemorate this unique East Side airlift with a modest monument to be located at the Greenwood Hill playground. That is a good thing. As a closing side note, one of the hoagies that landed in Greenwood Hill was recently donated to the county Historical Society. I understand it is a small Italian, with oil and hot peppers and extra cheese (not necessarily in that order). It will be placed on public display for the next 30 days.

"Pottsville 10,000 B.C."

Back in 2004 along the east side of The Claude A. Lord Boulevard in Pottsville (across from the old 84 Lumber business), someone was digging away at Greenwood Hill. The project went on for months and it intrigued me, so I wrote this article for the Pottsville Free Press. I was certainly inspired by the mysterious excavation and the determination of that one man was planning to move a mountain. For one brief moment I was ashamed of myself for never completing the hole I began when I was a youngster, with its destination "China"... I said just for one brief moment.



Are you as surprised as I am by watching large chunks of Greenwood Hill being removed along Route 61 in Pottsville? When the excavation begin last year, I assumed that the long overdue tunnel was being constructed to finally link downtown Pottsville with Port Carbon, thereby eliminating the bottleneck on East Norwegian Street. In any event I think the tunnel is the best idea since the widening of the Centre Street sidewalks in the 1970s.

Someone told me that it won’t be a car tunnel but rather a subway connecting Pottsville and Leiby's Restaurant in Tamaqua. If true, such an endeavor requires a lot of planning. I wonder how many stops the subway will have along the way? How will they prevent turnstile jumpers such as myself? Will there be a stop at The General Joulwan Skate Board Park? Will I be permitted to bring a pie back with me on the subway from Lieby’s? Will Leiby's still have coconut custard pies when I get there?

When I called the City Street Department to verify, I was curtly told that there was to be neither a subway nor a tunnel.

Then someone told me the project was really an archeological excavation. Apparently, cro-magnon people back in the Stone Age populated the area that Pottsville now occupies. Take my word for it, as I am an expert. What are my anthropological credentials? Well, I used to take a daily Flintstone vitamin and I still have my 1960’s poster of Raquel Welch starring in “One Million Years, B.C.” That should be sufficient. Many of the descendants of these primitive cave people still remain in the area. If you don’t believe me then go to Walmart on any weekend. Look around and see for yourself. Cave people still walk among us!

Do you often wonder what Pottsville was like in 10,000 B.C.? I often do; especially when I am stuck at a traffic light on Centre and I watch some troglodytes shuffle along the sidewalk. I know that some things haven’t changed too much; for instance some of our streets are still as bumpy as they were back then. But for the most part, things have changed with the passage of time. For instance, our Cro-Magnon and Neanderthal ancestors never celebrated a Winter Carnival as we do. No sir, as they were just getting out of the Ice Age; cold was last thing they wanted to celebrate. Similarly, Cruise Night as we know it did not yet exist then, as the wheel had yet to be invented. No Spelling Bee either, as their language consisted of only a few grunts. Grunts are too repetitive and too easy to spell. Yes, times were tough back then, so please don’t get misty-eyed for the good old days of 10,000 B.C.

Our early ancestors had it rough just trying to keep alive. According to the song, “Alley Oop” these people survived on nothing but bearcat stew, and wore only clothes from wildcat’s hide. If the lyrics are true (and I have no reason to doubt the truthfulness of a song that hit number One on the Billboard chart), then there were no 24 hour Giant Supermarkets and no Fashion Bugs. They also had to avoid being eaten by those dinosaurs that roamed around. It is the remnants of those dinosaurs that the archeologists are trying to locate and dig up right now as we speak. Greenwood Hill is loaded with dinosaur bones! Tyrannosaurus Rex, Snuffleupagus, and Wooly Mammoth just to name a few. They are all there, only hard to find.

The other Sunday I went out to the site to dig for myself, as I certainly did not want any of Pottsville’s ancient treasures to be plundered and removed to a faraway museum in Reading or Wilkes-Barre. After several hours of burrowing I found what I believed to be skull of a Neanderthal - proof of a lost civilization. I was ecstatic! I immediately took it to the County Historical Society for analysis. After a careful examination I was told that I was mistaken. Joy now turned to sorrow. I had not discovered a Neanderthal skull, as it should have consisted of fossilized bone. The specimen that I brought in was apparently plastic. I was then informed that it appeared to be the head of a “cabbage patch doll” that a child must have discarded when that craze died out in the late 1980s. In fact, the price tag was still visible. As for the other items I brought in, I was told that Guers Ice Tea certainly was not sold in 10,000 B.C. I was instructed by the curator of the Society to get out of the building or the police would be summoned.

What else could be happening out there on that Route 61 dig? The only other possibility would be an excavation to locate the lost tomb of Mayor Claude A. Lord! Take my word for it; I have Egyptologist credentials. You know, I was once hauled into court for illegally downloading the Steve Martin hit, “King Tut.” That should be sufficient.