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Table of Contents

• August Update

• August Sneak Peek

• Coal Town Girls

• Jan’s Reading Nook

• Guest Authors

August Update

Have you noticed the sweet heaviness of the last days of summer? That peaceful, full breath of warm grasses, sunflowers, corn in the fields. The last dip into cool lake water — the greetings of crickets and the lullaby of katydids when the sun has fallen.

As September approaches, I’ve been gathering the fruits of labor that my husband and I have tended since spring. The tomatoes aren’t quite ripe, but we’ve picked some beautiful cucumbers, yellow squash and zucchini. My 96-year-old dad absolutely loves a delicious squash and onion stir fry and a creamy cucumber dill salad.

Dad had huge verdant gardens when my siblings and I were young. My sisters and I spent many evenings hauling water from the cistern to the vegetable plants, looking down the deep well, on guard for the black snakes our brother frightened us into believing would come up with each bucket full of cold water!

Dad grew all the usuals plus sweet corn, pumpkins, gourds, garlic. There were also lush flowers like zinnias, bachelor buttons and cosmos, tended by us girls and Mom. We have pictures of many of the grandkids standing in the gardens. Mom used to tell them, “someday you’ll be as tall as Pap’s corn.” They did not disappoint — with one growing to 6’6”!

Now he supervises the garden his daughters keep for him, touring the yard in his golf cart (although he never played golf!) Sitting quietly with them on the back porch, drinking in the calm settled mood of an abundant summer.

There are still two chairs side-by-side, one that our mother had occupied, remembering and enjoying with Dad the products of their love, dreams and plans.

Last weekend my husband and I, our kids and some family friends gathered at a nearby lake for sun, swimming and roasting marshmallows at the campfire!

We enjoyed the peppers from our garden, stuffed with sweet Italian sausage, rice, chopped tomato, onion, parmesan cheese and tomato sauce, yummy! We also grilled some corn in its husk, smoked ribs and enjoyed luscious summer salads.

As my husband and I sat at the fire admiring the moon, we enjoyed the peacefulness of the late plentiful summer. And just like Mom and Dad, we savored the products of love, dreams and plans.

August Sneak Peek

“She walked along the tracks with head down, crossing at Mill Street which, along with Main and Railroad, was lined with slick shiny Model A’s, Roadsters, Studebakers. She was purposely late. She imagined the fanfare she had missed – men in fedoras and women in turban hats stepping out of rumble seats, their talk and laughter chiming on the autumn air in front of the Hotel Kautz.”

-Excerpt from Julia, Prequel to Coal Town Girls-

I am so excited to be working on my Prequel — Julia. You’ve all given me such super feedback on Coal Town Girls! Those of you who have grown up locally have been sharing your excitement at seeing the landmarks of your youth (or your present!) showcased within its pages.

Coal Town Girls started with a tiny seed — a seed planted in a young girl’s mind by two remarkably strong, funny, witty friends who shared their stories of growing up in Hollsopple, Pennsylvania. The little girl was me and the women were my Mother Joan and her best friend Mary — friends from the ages of five to ninety-two!

That seed germinated as I engaged with the wonderful group of writers who meet monthly at the Mary S. Biesecker Library in Somerset. Month after month, I formed bits and pieces of Coal Town Girls, sharing, editing and brainstorming, finally bringing the full story to fruition in March 2022.

Now, with Julia, I’m taking a journey further back in time to the people, places, struggles, triumphs and dreams of those who came before Joan and Mary. I can’t wait for you to join me.

Coal Town Girls

Coal Town girls was an idea that bubbled up over the years and finally found its way to paper. My mother, Joan, and her best friend, Mary, were often found cackling on our back porch, telling stories of their youth -- the town, the river, the people, the adventures, the sadness's, the joys. 

I love that so many of you have shared your own stories of growing up in Hollsopple and other little coal mining towns!!

Each month I’ll try to highlight a tidbit of history from Coal Town Girls! Enjoy reading about the following great man, Dr. Grazier. People have told me that he was an avid tobacco chewer and had a large spittoon right in his office. Imagine that in today’s world! Thank you, Holsopple Station for the news clip https://www.facebook.com/HolsoppleStation

“Just a few evenings ago, Mary had told Joan that Bessie's cheeks flamed up red as the poker from the coal stove. Her mother said most likely she had caught a draft from an open window, chapping her tender skin.

But late into the night, Mary awoke to find her mother bathing Bessie in an icy bath, her skin burning hot to the touch. Her dad being down in the mines, Mary ran to Dr. Grazier's house and brought him back to Bessie's bedside.”

-Excerpt from Coal Town Girls-

Jan’s Reading Nook

Throughout history, our ancestors gathered around fires telling and soaking in the magic that is “story.” This primal need continues and has not left us! I love to share thoughts on nuggets of literature I’ve been enjoying and exploring. For me, a main focus has been historical fiction, literary fiction, family sagas. Although all genres have their own jewels.

Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses

I came across Jeannette Walls’ Half Broke Horses the same way I’ve found many written treasures — on the shelf at a local thrift store. Perhaps this is why I tend to read old standards and also lesser known gems.

Honest, contradictory, beautiful, hard, engaging stories tend to “stick to my ribs” and satisfy the need to be filled with “story.” Half Broke Horses did not disappoint.

In this fictionalized version of a true story, Walls tells of growing up in the West Texas grasslands through the eyes of her grandmother, Lily:

“…timber was so scarce in that part of Texas. Dad made our home by shoveling out what was more or less a big hole on the side of the riverbank, using cedar branches as rafters and covering them over with sod. The dugout had one room, a packed earth floor, a wooden door, a waxed-paper window and a cast-iron stove with a flue that jutted up through the sod roof.

The best thing about living in the dugout was that it was cool in summer and not too cold in winter. The worst thing about it was, from time to time, scorpions, lizards, snakes, gophers, centipedes and moles wormed their way out of our walls and ceilings.”

Lily’s mother tenaciously held onto “civilization” as she perceived it, amid the crude conditions that surrounded her:

“Mom had furnished the dugout with…velvet curtains that we hung on the walls to make it look like we had more windows, a silver serving set and a carved walnut headboard (which) she said was the only thing that allowed her to sleep at night because it reminded her of the civilized world.”

As she ages a bit, Lily shows her toughness, breaking wild horses at the age of six. In her teenage and young adult years, Lily’s life leads her to Chicago, teaching and marriage. A marriage that is far from her dream:

“…Slick told me I should call my husband. As much to put his mind at rest as anything else, I made the call.

A man answered, “Sales. This is Charlie.”

“I’m wondering if there’s any way you can help me track down Ted Conover on the road. This is his wife, Lily.”

“Ted ain’t on the road. He just left for lunch. And his wife’s name’s Margaret.”

Lily eventually finds love and settles back into ranch life. Her beautiful daughter, Rosemary — Walls’ mother who is portrayed unforgettably in The Glass Castle — shows a fierce high-spiritedness and what Lily considers poor decision making. Speaking of Rosemary’s soon-to-be husband:

“That scalawag might be fun, but he’s also a danger to himself and others” said Lily.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Rosemary said. “We’re all just one step up from the beasts and one step down from the angels.”

Near the close of the story, Lily, standing beside her husband Jim, says:

“…when the newlywed couple came out of the hotel… Jim put his arm around me and we watched them take off up the street, heading out into open country like a couple of half-broke horses.”

“Over her life, Lily survived tornadoes, droughts, floods, the Great Depression, and heartbreaking personal tragedy. She fought prejudice against women, Native Americans, and anyone who didn't fit the mold.”

As the curtain draws on Half-Broke Horses, Lily wonders if she went wrong somewhere with Rosemary. Her husband tells her to accept Rosemary’s life. After all, “some people like to be penned in. Others like to roam.” Lily resonates with that message.

Guest Authors

Each month, I plan to bring to you a wonderful guest author. Published, unpublished, aspiring authors will share their journeys, goals and snippets of their work.

This month, I will feature myself ☺

I’ve loved writing from a young age — little poems, cards, notes. My fifth grade English teach, Miss Patti, truly ignited my passion, tapping into my desire to share my imagination in the written word.

High school English Literature teacher, Professor Mary Ann Tighe, was a master at descriptive prose and passed her wisdom on to her students.

Throughout life, I’ve carried my writing forward in poems, journals and short stories, mostly unshared.

Within the past several years, I’ve had the opportunity to work with wonderful writers through SCRIBES who have given me much inspiration, confidence, knowledge. Online courses have sharpened my skills. Now, I am happy to put my words out into the world!

Thank you so much for welcoming my work. Here are a couple bits from Coal Town Girls:

From Chapter 13, Brave Faces and Hidden Places

“Joan wondered if Mary and Charlie, too, were getting together after school. Their place was up at the grotto behind the church. Charlie would be going straight into the service after graduation. But he and Mary were set on marrying first – they were nearly connected at the hip since the night Mary kissed Charlie on the kitchen steps at St. Methodius'. As excited as Joan was, she worried. She knew that we still had troops in Germany. Would Charlie soon be halfway around the world?”

"Then's when old Midge sold my bike out from under me and put me on a train home. She won't suffer a fool, that one. Works the Marconi Station out there with her Roy. Half them men don't know how to do the things she gets done before sunrise. You oughta meet her, girl."

At that moment, Joan dreamed for nothing more. But something inside her told her that it was only that – a dream.

While she could, Joan hung onto her father's presence like one might hold onto a balloon at the fair. You know the balloon is yours for now but you also know that it has every intention of following whatever random circumstances may come to take it away.