Finding our common roots deep in the vein, or A-coalin'

Kasey Cox

What do you get when you cross a German, a Pole, and a Czech? In many cases, you get a Pennsylvanian. If you’ve lived a good portion of your life in Pennsylvania, then names with lots of consonants back-to-back, or names ending in “-ski” have been part of your every day experience, or more likely, your family tree. My years in Pennsylvania have been peppered with teachers named Korenkiewicz, directors named Kolvalcik, colleagues named Gluszczak, and friends named Salitrynski. In some areas, people grow up with chile rellenos or cannollis, but in Scranton, or Blossburg, we’re more familiar with pierogi and rugelach.

Before I get too over my head into Polish jokes, I’d like to defer to Brian Ardan’s expertise. Ardan’s recent book, “The Anthracite Coal Region’s Slavic Community”, yet another great title from wonderful Arcadia Publishing, details Pennsylvania’s rich history of coal mines and close-knit communities. His introduction alone is a masterpiece, obviously condensing and summarizing decades worth of research. Ardan has a master’s degree in Slavic studies, as well as a master’s degree in Library Science, and is a faculty member in the Stevenson Library at Lock Haven University.

Another strength of Mr. Ardan’s introduction is the care he takes to clearly define what he means by “Slavic People”, listing the areas they come from and the ethnic/national groups from which they are descended. Ardan divides the Slavic people into three main groups, covering as far east as “Russia”, as far south as Macedonia, and as far west as the now-dissolved Czechoslovakia. The Slavic people of Pennsylvania, however, were mostly Ukrainian, Polish, Czech, or Slovak. Brian Ardan explains this focus with concise and lucid language, so that I feel in good hands and solid ground as I start to read his book.

After the must-read introduction, I find the book organized into helpful sections, including chapters on the Old World; scenes from life of the newly-arrived; later organizations of church, ethnic, and civil groups; and work life in the mines. In keeping with Arcadia Publishing’s “Images of America” series, most of the book is a collection of fascinating black & white photos, with detailed captions, giving the reader a true sense of “a slice of life” at this time and place.

I have only one criticism of Mr. Ardan’s otherwise-excellent history: he is so careful to introduce the reader to both “Slavic people” in Pennsylvania and to the exact goal of his book, and yet there is no specific definition of “anthracite coal region”, nor any list of which counties of Pennsylvania this includes. I guess I should know where the anthracite coal was and is found in Pennsylvania, but upon first perusal of this book, I was confused as to why I found no mention of Blossburg, or Landrus, or coal towns in western PA. I had to satisfy my curiosity about the different coal mining regions in Pennsylvania by doing a bit more online research. Adding one or two sentences clarifying which parts of Pennsylvania would be highlighted is a simple way to educate the reader and edify the introduction.

Thus, my only criticism of “The Anthracite Region’s Slavic Community” issues a challenge to writers and historians of our area: Arcadia Publishing awaits you! A curious, willing, ready-made audience of people wants to hear more about the history of Tioga, Potter, Sullivan, and Bradford counties, and the Twin Tiers of northern PA and southern New York. I’d love to help you make a serious proposal to Arcadia about history that is just a little closer to home. In the meantime, I think Mr. Ardan’s book will transport your favorite history buff back in time, and get your mental wheels turning.

Hobo says the canaries are free to go down into those mines: he doesn’t like to hunt birds, and he’d rather read about mining than go a-coalin’. He thinks he’d like to be invited to the next Blossburg Coal Festival: bring on the Polka and the pierogi! Check out his recipe for a good book and a poppy seed pastry at http://frommyshelf.blogspot.com.

Huck Finn Goes to Pennsylvania

Kasey Cox

Imagine this recipe: you take the tone of a classic story like "Little House on the Prairie"; the voice of a woman like Marty, of Janette Oke's "Love Comes Softly" series; set her down in north central Pennsylvania just as the 1800's become the 1900's. Then, add in a character who just may be the Huckleberry Finn, after several decades of wandering and mellowing, and for a finishing touch, give it just a hint of "Jane Eyre". You just might end up with something that tasted like Larry Kimport's "A Small Harvest of Pretty Days."

The book hooks the reader at the beginning with a plot device unusual for this type of story - Clara, the first-person narrator, describes how the first time she saw the man she came to know as Mr. Finley, she was running for her life. In the opening scene, Clara hints at how she knows, from personal experience, that the man she was running from meant her harm. As she hides inside a fallen tree - and this is a nice touch, since the trees of that era were big enough for a grown person to fit inside - she witnesses a murder. From my perspective, the questions surrounding this murder continue to pull the reader through the story, and change it from just another novel for the historical fiction shelves.

Indeed, Kimport blends the techniques and topics of contemporary fiction with the milieu and voice of a bygone era. The setting of the Twin Tiers (that's northcentral PA and southcentral NY, to those of you outside the area) in the 1890's is effectively woven into Clara's story, using details of the chores of daily life, the discussions on the lumber business heard around the dinner table with important male guests, the descriptions of clothing and tools, the leisure activities of the well-to-do, and the hardships of most travel. Occasionally, this historical setting and the voices of the characters are out-of-sync with the frank discussion of rape and murder that drives the plot. Nevertheless, Kimport is usually able to smooth this over by prefacing these revelations with how utterly Clara's life is devastated by her experience and the community's opinion of her as a result, or by having male characters say, "we shouldn't be talking about this gruesome murder in the presence of women and children."

"A Small Harvest of Pretty Days" is marketed as a fictional love story, and as a "what-if" sequel to Mark Twain's "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn." While those ingredients are in there, that's not the strongest flavor. I felt the author did a better job evoking rural America at the turn of the last century, and of leaving the "why" of the murder open. I was more intrigued with the information on the railroads coming through the Williamsport area, and the lumber being moved down the Susquehanna River, and the day-to-day activities necessary for running a farm. The development of the love story and the mystery as to whether or not Mr. Finley was Huck Finn were a little obvious to me, although the love story is nice in and of itself. Any fan of Janette Oke or Lori Wick or Judith Pella's Christian historical romances will enjoy this aspect of Kimport's novel. And I did like reading a love story that wasn't all convoluted with war stories, or full of vampires, for once. What kept me reading, however, was wanting answers to the same questions that bothered Clara - why would this seemingly nice man, this Mr. Finley who was so kind and helpful to her, kill a man? And why didn't it seem to bother him? Was he responsible for the other brutal murders that were shocking the entire area?

The answer is a creative one, and doesn't resolve until near the end of the book, in just the plot structure your junior high English teacher explained to you. I found the resolution, as well as the epilogue of Clara's life, ultimately quite satisfying. At 181 pages, and reasonably priced at $12.97, I'd recommend Kimport's book to any reader looking for a good recipe with more to it than expected.

Cabin Fever Cures

Kevin Coolidge and Kasey Cox

Winter is a disease, and it comes every year – soon to be followed by the dreaded Cabin Fever. Symptoms include a tendency to eat too much chocolate, making flight plans to tropical destinations, and howling at the moon. Cabin Fever happens when you think you can't stand the cold and dark any longer and you just have to get out and do something or you’ll go stark, raving mad. Spring is the cure. Here are some books that will help your symptoms and plan your outside projects.

Tioga County is farming country and most farms in these parts used to have a sugar shack. Vermont might get better promotion and produce more, but there’s nothing better than Grandma’s flapjacks topped with homemade syrup from the farm. If you’ve a hankering for homemade and want to try making your own, then Backyard Sugarin’: A Complete How-To Guide, by Rink Mann will show you how.This book tells you how you can make maple syrup right in your own back yard without having to build a sap house or buy buckets, holding tanks, and other expensive paraphernalia. Think of it as sugar on a shoestring. The author goes over the basics of selecting your trees, homemade evaporators, the boiling down process and includes tips from small-time sugarers from across the country.

The country life is about chopping wood and carrying water, and even those who use chainsaws still need to be familiar with the hand tools of the craft. The Ax Book by D. Cook discusses – obviously – axes, but it is also a book about saws, fuel, wood, trees, forestry, steel, history, morals, and much more. The Ax Book tells you how to use an ax safely and efficiently for every task it can perform, especially in connection with cutting firewood and felling trees. A hundred years ago, the ax was the most important tool in America . It’s still important in these parts. Before the Pennsylvania Lumber Museum reopens in April, get yourself inspired about local lumbering history by reading Robert Currin’s short but sweet book focusing on The Pennsylvania Lumber Museum, a part of Stackpole Book’s “Pennsylvania Trail of History” guides.

Any time we have a warmer day in winter, I begin to dream of spring. Thaw brings the smell of dirt, and with it, thoughts of growing things, playing in the garden, birds tugging worms from soft, sun-warmed soil. Yes, squelching around in giant boots can get tiresome, but reading William Bryant Logan’s new cult classic Dirt: The Ecstatic Skin of the Earth may just give you the renewed perspective you’re looking for. In poetic, meandering, fascinating mini-essays, Logan teaches about dirt – and history, farming, bugs, water, chemistry, the mysteries and facts of dowsing, the joys of composting, and even some of the beauty hidden in life and death. Reading Dirt brings a new appreciation for the stuff you yell at the kids for tracking into the house.

In preparation for your garden, or just to save on the amount of garbage you put on the curb every week, why not start a compost pile? There’s something quite satisfying about taking the bread crusts and apple cores and leftover salad already rotting in the refrigerator and putting it together to see what happens to it. Remember mixing all the leftovers from people’s junior high cafeteria lunch trays into one bowl and daring someone to eat it? That’s what compost is like – only more socially acceptable and scientifically redeeming. To get started, or to become more advanced, in your – er – science experiment and efforts to be green, try reading Stu Campbell’s enthusiastic book, Let it Rot! Helpful and popular over many years, this user-friendly compost guide is in its third edition.

So, throw on your mud boots, eat your chocolate Easter bunnies, watch the real bunnies in the yard, play Paul Bunyon and Nessmuk, tap your inner sap, plan your garden, and exchange the dreaded Cabin Fever for a full-blown case of Spring Fever!! See you outdoors soon.


How does your garden grow? Stop by, and let Kevin and Kasey know, at From My Shelf Books in Wellsboro, or email them through the website: www.wellsborobookstore.com