the Jimmy Buffet House in North Manheim Township

I recently attended the County symposium on the causes of the warm winter we just experienced. It was held at the Pottsville Planetarium and the science community was there in full force, setting forth plausible explanations.

Obviously some believed it was due to the groundhog prediction, others believed it was caused by the elderly population going overboard on Hoody Hoo Day and pushed for a ordinance banning the practice of Hoody Hooism, and still others believed the temperature increased solely due to the proliferation of Zumba lessons throughout the area. The end result was absolutely no consensus and a fight soon erupted over which irish democrat the Planetarium should be named after .

Afterwards a group of us headed over to the newest entertainment establishment in the county. You know, the one devoted to Jimmy Buffet. It is located in North Manheim Township along Route 61 not far from the legendary Spa 61. It’s called the Buffet House and should be a major destination for Hawaiian-shirt-wearing aging yuppies on their way to or from Cabela’s. In fact there is plenty of parking for their Escalades and BMWs.

When we arrived I noticed the large grand opening sign in the front. I felt welcomed and at ease until one member of our group started to complain as he thought the place was devoted to Warren Buffet. I told him “No way, Jose” and we headed towards the entrance.

I think the owners of the place were expecting large crowds of Jimmy Buffet devotees (who are referred to as Juggalos) as a metal fence encircled the premises to keep the crowds at bay.

Before we entered I went into a trance-like flashback, remembering my visits to this location many, many years ago. This was the place that I first laid eyes on Mammy; she was doing the Hustle, all dressed up in her silver polyester outfit. That was the 70s. The rest is history. The dancehall was known to all then as “the Dusselfink” during those Mad Men years, when Willard and Cook ruled the County and everyone drank hi-balls, ate pop rocks, and smoked cigarettes openly and in your face. And of course everyone danced. Some called it a Wonderland while others called it a Pennsylvania Dutch Studio 54. We just called it ‘Das Fink’ where Lounge Music reigned supreme.

When I snapped out of my trance, we were already inside the Buffet House. It was quite rustic, but it had to be, as it was to convey the let’s pretend we are Castaways feelings that Jimmy Buffet exudes. We had no problem getting a seat as we were the only ones there. After about ten minutes I looked around. Not only were there no other patrons, there were no hosts or hostesses. I had my mind set on ordering the special that was advertised on the sign. Then I remembered it was a Monday and many restaurants were closed on Mondays, so we got up and left.

Someone in the SUV said it reminded him of a burned-out restaurant, like the old Manheim Diner, a pile of charred rubble that sat for years just a mile south of the Jimmy Buffet House. While he missed that old pile of charred pile of rubble, this new one was even better. It will be the new focal point of North Manheim Township. The Township was always proud to show off a burned out restaurant to passerbys.

We were still hungry and we wanted cheeseburgers in paradise, so we headed north to Margarita...I mean...Pottsville and stopped in at the Eagles Club. I switched shirts before we entered as the Hawaiian shirt I had on was inappropriate attire at the Eagles which has a very strict dress code. We would go the Buffet House another day. It will be there for years to come.

Forest Hills

Forest Hills was created in the early 1960s when Pottsville wanted more room for the expansion of public housing and to recreate itself. A relocation and movement of the city’s middle class was determined as the best way to accomplish this goal. This resettlement program, freeing the center city of the middle class, is referred to in the city’s history as 'the Trail of Tears'. It was also during this period that Penn State Schuylkill was told to leave the city.
This project did not occur without a hitch as Forest Hills is cut off from the rest of the city by the borough of Mount Carbon. You see, Forest Hills is not joined to the rest of Pottsville; its sort of like Alaska. Alaska is cut off by Canada for those of you geographically illiterate.
Study a map of the area carefully (Schuylkill County, not Alaska); use a microscope if necessary. A tiny independent governmental entity named “Mount Carbon” actually exists and splits Pottsville into two. I swear to this upon my grandmother’s grave.

Mount Carbon has often been referred to as the Lichtenstein of Schuylkill County, in that it is a small, mountainous tax haven, having more businesses than residents. It is sometimes affectionately called “Tiny Town.”
The population of Mount Carbon is difficult to determine as some statistics include patrons of the local taverns who stay too long, those buried in the cemeteries, and the lobsters in the seafood store.

The road from Pottsville Proper to Forest Hills traverses Mount Carbon and this ticked off Mount Carbonites, who were envious of the tax base, creating a crisis. It appears that Pottsville, Mount Carbon and North Manheim Township all claimed parts of the settled territory.
Forest Hills was to be a middle-class residential oasis, devoid of any commercial buildings or eating establishments. Yep, no soup kitchens, no tattoo parlors, no nothing. Zippo. Therefore, the residents were dependent on Mount Carbon for pizza, hoagies, chips, seafood, and beer.
Mount Carbon began to build a wall around Forest Hills and also started a blockade. In response, city officials organized a helicopter mission to carry the daily necessities of life as mentioned to the citizens of Forest Hills. Likewise, Forest Hillites dug tunnels to get to Goodfella’s and Julian’s taverns and bring back snack foods as well as companionship. Some of the tunnels are still visible today.
The effort was clearly succeeding and by April of the following year the Mount Carbon officials capitulated when Mayor Stephenson gave his stirring “tear down this wall” speech and the isolation of Mount Carbon ended. Soon travel between Forest Hills and the rest of the world resumed once again.
A peace treaty was soon signed between Tiny Town, the Township and Pottsville which allowed one privately owned road to be maintained through Mount Carbon without the borough having to pay one red cent for any expenses. North Manheim Township was given control over much of the more ritzy section of Forest Hills.

The Tiny Town treasurer emptied the paper bag which contained all of the borough’s revenue onto the table, totaling $335.27 cash, three “free glass of beer” tokens from Goodfellas, two 10% discount coupons from Adelphia’s, and two Winter Carnival buttons. All of this revenue was already was earmarked for other borough projects. There was nothing left for road repairs.
Eighteen people joined hands in one human chain that stretched from one end of the borough to the other, raising nearly $42.50 towards a fund to maintain the road. This was called “Hands Across Mount Carbon” and was filmed and put to music. Alas, the money raised was not enough.
Luckily, there is discussion of the City of Pottsville pledging city tax dollars to perpetually maintain the private road through Mount Carbon as a form of restitution to those middle class residents forced to leave the city during the Trail of Tears period.
I am not sure who pays for the road maintenance of the ritzy section in North Manheim Township. I probably would guess Pottsville.

History of Schuylkill County (chapter 3: Centre Turnpike)

Prior to 1812 Schuylkill County’s transportation routes consisted of a few isolated Indian trails and bridle paths. The Centre Turnpike, opened in 1812, followed a large portion of the old King’s Highway, originally intended to be the Northwest Passage to Knoebel’s Grove; this new turnpike however veered to the west to join the cities of Reading and Sunbury. Economically this thoroughfare was significant for the county, giving many citizens government jobs at the various toll booths that dotted the highway. By 1815 17% of the county’s male population had employment as toll booth attendants. This began the two hundred year old love affair between the citizenry and government jobs.
With so many travelers on the turnpike, this also created an opportunity for many restaurateurs to open establishments and offer the wayfarers the cuisine common in their European mother countries.
One major innovation of the eateries was “drive-through” service which allowed customers on horseback or stagecoach to order and pick up food without stepping foot inside.
Forensic archeologists have recently determined that the most popular take-outs of these early settlers included chow chow, fluffernutter sandwiches, gruel and porter ale – all still popular today. The most popular meals eaten inside at a table included leek soup, collops, pigeon breasts, onion rings, porter ale and sweet and sour possum (also still popular today at Renninger’s Market).
Many of these eateries catered to children, featuring primitive “Happy Meals” of a boiled pig’s stomach with a small toy, such as a pocketknife, hidden inside. To keep these active children content while the adults finished off their meal with tobacco and a pitcher of ale, indoor “playgrounds” were available, consisting of small collieries where coal could be broken by children into smaller pieces with their grubby little fingers. Stephen Girard and others adopted this practice on a larger scale in the booming coal industry, creating unheard of financial opportunities for children which allowed them to buy more “Happy Meals.”
Billboard advertising appeared along the highway in the 18th century. The first billboard announced the distance to “Spa Centre Turnpike” in North Manheim Township. The ones that followed advertised nearby taverns. In the mid-1820s Pottsville’s downtown was not as busy as it is today. There were no enticing tattoo parlors and no ‘cash for trash’ businesses. ....none.... zippo.... In those early days, tattooing was done in the privacy of one’s own stable, keeping much of the population off the streets. Pottsville, however, had several watering holes that attracted those from near and far.

The most famous pub was The White Horse Tavern, at the corner of Mahantongo and Centre Streets. John Pott purchased the premises in 1818 and every weekend featured the legendary house bands Anthro Sylicosis and the original Stanky and the Coalminers. It was here that Mrs. Pott uttered that classic phrase, “This ain’t no disco.” Trendy scenesters soon flocked to the White Horse to “see and be seen.” Boasting a nice, loungey atmosphere that easily transmuted into a wild and infectious party, the Tavern offered a welcoming atmosphere. It soon became a hip testament to Pottsville featuring a long list of chic and potent whiskey concoctions, quality tap beers, pretty women, beer pong tables, and some darn good bar food such as pickled eggs, house pizzas, calzones, shepherd’s pie, bangers and mash. Amidst an array of sophisticated mixed drinks, reverberating lounge music, and the eclectic and attractive clientele, one sort of faded back at first, before awakening by the increasingly exhilarating action on the dance floor. On weekends the party often became excessive and overwhelming to the fainter patrons, but it was never crass or vulgar. Thursdays could be chill as Thursday was karaoke night.

So much for the history of the Centre Turnpike.

holiday traditions

My holiday season has been great so far. It started off early with a huge multi-ethnic breakfast at home combining the best of Chanukah, Christmas and Chwanzaa - The three C's as we call them. While the rest of my extended family enjoyed the potato latkes, I consumed the thick Pennsylvania Dutch thick ham, all smothered with pineapples, cloves and drenched in raisin sauce. Why? Well it is important to eat fruit during the winter months to keep regular - I highly recommend this meal to everyone.

Years ago we used to walk around the downtowns to shop and look at the festive displays. These downtowns no longer exist as we knew them, and ditto with the Malls. Psst...have you been in Steve & Barry's or Value City lately? So our newest family tradition is to walk around Renninger’s Market and take in the sights of the season there.

It is a great festive place to get support stocking stuffers, and even the support stockings to stuff or to wear.

After parking our SUV on the grounds (warning: there is no valet parking) we immediately entered the grand Hall and headed to the booth to get tickets for the one of the best kept secrets in the area. No, I am not talking about what really goes on in the local township massage parlors; I am talking about The Sounds of Light and Ice Christmas Show. The show has become so popular that you need to reserve tickets ahead of time.

Yes, we all know that Renninger’s Market is renowned for its architecture, boutiques, fine dining and people watching. It is a pop culture phenomena often compared to Venice Beach in California, but many are unaware that it transforms itself every winter into a wonderland filled with colorful displays and fragrant aromas (a combination of poinsettas and smoked sausage); and almost no one knows of the dazzling ice skating extravaganza on the pond which is located behind that exclusive shop that sells used hubcaps and rusty tools. This show puts the Mummers’ Ferko String Band to shame when it comes to old fashioned holiday family entertainment.

With a few hours to wait until show time, we strolled the aisles with the other hundreds of serious sophisticated shoppers all looking for those specials gift for those special someones among the dizzying array of merchandise for sale. Mammy bought some pre-owned VHS tapes – including the complete Saw series - and a tee shirt that proclaims “I’m With Stupid.”

While I trying to figure out who her special someone is, I bought three pounds of frozen herring. We then sat in on the auction for two hours placing bids on every thing that was offered for sale - from Artic boots to Yahtsee games.

Looking at our watches that we purchased earlier at of the many bally-hooed kiosks, we filled up our paper plates with Nachos and cheese and headed out to the bleachers set up for the show. The view was perfect from our seats as the larger Marketeers sat behind us. The music was piped in from the auctioneer’s amplifier while we watched the supersized skaters perform on the ice in their native costumes of bib blue jeans. The pond is not arena size but it is adequate for the half-dozen skaters that dazzled us with pure energy. At one point we thought that some of these skaters might fall through the ice but it did not happen, disappointing the little ones in the audience. Maybe next year kids.
While there is no dancing fountain to watch, you might occasionally see someone shake up a birch beer letting it spurt into the air. If you want to see dancing fountains, I say go to Longwood Gardens, but if you want some good birch beer, then come to Renninger’s Market, available for your consumption at one of the many chic funnel cake and french fry stands that are nestled on the premises.
The enchanting music, by the way, is supplied by North Manheim Steamshovel, an eclectic group of local road crew workers and Rest Haven residents performing holiday pop music with synthesizers as well as the traditional Schuylkill County instrument, the flutophone, in a New Age style.

Yes, North Manheim Township is noted, not only for its red light, adult entertainment district that is bustling along Route 61, but also for its Christmas extravaganza at “The Market.”
I recommend that you take in both this holiday season.