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boeserbby · 5 years ago

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Only Time Will Tell- Brock Boeser 1.3

about/request: I really wanted to explore a relationship where you are ‘the other woman’ this is the result of that. I’m not sure how long this will end up so…. sorry.

warnings: cursing, i think that's it??

authors note: Sorry I took such a long time bringing this out, I didn’t know if anyone actually liked this or not. Remember that a lot of details in this story are made up or changed. Make sure to check out parts one and two, I fixed some mistakes and made some corrections.

timeline: march 2017

word count: 2614

Hockey used to be a life for not just me, but my whole family. Three nights a week we would hop in my dad’s old work truck to cruise over to wherever Charlie, and in turn Brock, played. Often times we would meet up with the Boeser’s to grab the best seats right by the ice. Here my mom would yell to “Shoot the puck!” or boo at whatever call she felt didn't fit the crime. My dad would grab a couple of beers while talking to some guys he knew from his work. Small towns mean most people there he knew so he would rarely sit with us the whole game. Sometimes I would sit by my mom and Brock’s mom and sisters. Sometimes there would be kids from school or members from the team who were scratched I would sit by instead. Wren was often the one scratched. He never made it to practice on time and when he did he would spend more time talking to guys on the team then practicing. He was nice and seen grew to be one of the guys on the team I felt fully comfortable with. He understood what it was like to be the younger sibling and live in the shadow of our elders. His older brother Josh was team captain and lead them to 3 state titles in a row.

After the game, all of us would go out to eat. The Boeser’s and the Y/L/N’s and whomever joined along from the team. Dad would tell Charlie what to do better, of course Dad knew what it was like to play hockey. He played for the University of Minnesota until a really bad accident his sophomore year took him out. Charlie, and me too (at least for a little bit), just wanted to impress him. Often times dad would rag on Charlie until they got into a mini fight. Charlie would hitch a ride back with Brock and his family. My dad would then spend the whole drive home complaining that Charlie was never going to be as good as him if Charlie didn't take his advice.

Although the bad seeped into the good. The hockey rink was were my family was one. We all would come together to scream when number 6 would skate out. Cause no matter how awful things were going at home, the rink was a time of escape. It was when hot chocolate would warm cold fingers in the late second period or the high of sugar rush from skittles in the second intermission. It was a time to giggle at the little kids they brought out between periods. They wouldn’t yet be comfortable on skates so they would slip and fall or miss the puck completely. I couldn’t remember what it was like when Charlie and I were that young playing, but I like thinking we were better than that.

After he had died, I didn’t go to many games. There was no more hot chocolate or skittles high. No little kids falling or scoring on their own net. We never went out to eat after the games. There were no more arguments between dad and Charlie. The nearby rink which once held the best memories was purposely avoided at all times. Life went on, but each day seemed to hold some emotional punch of remembrance. Like one day, about 3 months after he died I came home from school and my mom had cleaned out his room. Neat piles of his clothes and pictures were placed in bins labeled “attic” or “giveaway.” His first skates, his autographed Detroit Red Wings Steve Yzerman jersey, and so much more was packed away to be set aside. His posters, CDs and other trinkets were thrown out or donated to a thrift store. I remember yelling at my mom that this is his room. She told me she needed to heal and that dad had been asking her to do it for two weeks. It was time to move on.

Since moving I had gone to no hockey games. And the Vancouver Canucks were not a bad team. They had just been having a difficult time in recent years. That didn’t make city pride for them any less. Any game night and the always crowded downtown streets turned into an obstacle only the bravest could handle. I never purposely put myself in a position to make the drive down to the stadium in the past 2 years of living in Vancouver. Occasionally I was invited to games by friends and classmates. I managed to get out of it every time too, but somehow escaping this invite seemed impossible.

It was Brock’s mother’s last night in the city before she had to fly back down to Minnesota to care for Brock’s younger siblings. I was extended an invite due to my ‘gracious’ hosting, my mother called me and told me how Laurie, Brock’s mother, raved how I grew into such a beautiful and caring young woman. So there I was crammed in Rogers Arena with 18,000 or so people. Laurie was on one side of me wearing a new Boeser jersey. I, even though I lived there awhile, owned no such fan gear and instead dressed in a thick sweatshirt. Natalie tried to get me to wear her old Trevor Linden jersey, but I high tailed it out of there before she could fish it out of her closet.

I loved hockey growing up, but standing here made me feel so out of place. Life had changed so much in the past two years. I was no longer the little tomboy with scraped knees and a messy ponytail. I longer wanted to play hockey. Now, I had put hockey out of my life so much that welcoming it back in right now felt traitorous to everything I had done to avoid coming here. Laurie was cheering and dancing. I guess there is nothing quite like the debut of your child in the NHL. Warm ups had just started so every guy was on the ice. It was easy to spot him in the white 6 with the dark blue background. I got chills the first time I saw it. Boeser was spelled out in big letters across his back. I imagined at that moment seeing Charlie out there. He would mess around and probably fall trying to impress some girls he would see on the front row. But he would be here, and he would be happy.

“I’m gonna go grab a beer, want one?” I asked his mom. Canada drinking laws are sort of amazing. I remember getting carded at a bar when I first turned 19. There was a split second of panic before I remembered I didn’t really need to be 21 up here.

“No, hun, I’m going to facetime the girls so they can see Brock on the ice,” she said grabbing her phone.

People were still pouring in from the front doors. Lines were long for everything even the escultors. I recognized some people from college and waved. They sported brand new jerseys and held in their arms peanuts and beers and popcorn. “We are gonna win!” They all said. People were invigorated with the call up of Brock. I was invigorated to get a beer in me that's for sure. Fifteen minutes and 16 bucks later I carried my two beers back to our spot. Laurie was finishing up her call to Jessica and Paul, Brock siblings along with Duke. I waved and said hi to everyone.

“Kid, you gotta come back more often,” Paul said. Paul was Brock’s oldest sibling and he always acted like he was so much older than the rest of us. Add on to the fact that I was the youngest in our family friend group, “Kid” has been my nickname well into my early teens.

“I will soon, I have just been super busy with college and all.”

It had been mine excuse through out my time here. For the first 8 months my parents begged me to come home. At this point they didn't even call me anymore. I guess it's far cause I don't call them up much too.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay back home,” Laurie said. “Are you guys staying up to watch the game?”

“Only for a little bit, I work early in the morning.” Jessica said. West coast games ended way too late to stay up watching them in Minnesota. While it was only 7:00 our time it was 9 there so the game could last until 12 or 1 am.

We all said our goodbyes as the lights dimmed. The Canucks opening video was being shown on the big screen while music blared in the arena. This was pump up time. As our guys skated out people cheered loudly. This game was supposed to be good. The Ducks always had a little rivalry with us. Add on to the fact that this was Boeser’s first home game and we were on a two-game losing streak. The team, and the fans, were hungry for a win.

Unfortunately moral lasted until the ducks scored for the third time in the first period. Add on when Montour scored to make it 4-0 in the second, people began realising that not much has changed even with Brock. As the zamboni entered the ice for second intermission, Laurie turns to me.

“So, your mom told me your in college,” she started. God, she was fishing. Mom’s think they are clever trying to get information by stating the conversation at a wide base value and steer it to the cavity in the situation.

“Yep, I go to the University of British Columbia for journalism,” I said sipping water I got after downing both beers in the first period.

“That must be a lot of work, what do you do for work?” she asks.

“I actually write for Vancouver’s newspaper, they pay pretty good, and I do work study, so they pay for so much of my tuition that isn’t covered by my scholarships and then I get some of the money”

“What do you do for work study?” she asks.

“My English professor needs an assistant. I’m basically his gopher. If he needs a book from the library or a coffee I go get it. I transcribe his lectures for any kid who misses class. Sometimes I will tutor kids or help them find good sources for their papers. It’s not too bad, maybe three or four hours per day and I get like 6 credits towards my English major.”

“Gosh, that's a lot. He needs you to do all of that?”

I shrug, “It sucks sometimes but the professor is nice so…”

“Your mom said that you haven’t come home since moving here.” They way she phrases the end of it is hard to respond to. It's not a question, more of a statement. She didn't sound mad or upset like my mom does when she says it. Laurie just sounds concerned. Her voice feels like a hug.

“It’s just soo much,” I start. “Charlie’s gone and mom and dad are splitting up. Mom met this new guy and he is so proper. Dad hasn’t even called me in two months because I said I’m not coming home for his huge labor day party. Plus I just got so much going on.”

“It’s okay to be hurt by what's going on, but don’t hide from it. Your parents love you a lot. They just don’t know how to love each other with so much hurt.”

“I don't know how to love them with so much hurt.” I mutter.

Everyone is buzzing as the crowd makes its way out of the arena. We may have lost, but Brock put one in the beginning of the third to excite the crowd. Laurie and I hang back to give Brock time to get ready. The team could have lost 10-1 and she still would have been glowing with excitement for Brock. His life was changing, and he was no longer the little boy who fell over on the ice. Where most parents would have been freaking out, Laurie handled with grace, something she has done her entire life. No matter the situation Laurie put on her big girl pants and muddled through.

We meandered our way to the locker room, showing our passes to the security guard. In the hallway we waited as different guys from the team joined up with their wives or girlfriends. They all hugged Laurie telling her how wonderful her son is. Everyone loved Brock. Well almost everyone.

Brock finally made his way out. His hair was still wet from what I was hoping was a shower and not sweat. He and Laurie hugged when he reached us. It was an awkward second or two while we figured out if we would hug or not. Wrapping my arms around him felt weird, almost as weird as the time we kissed. Yet there was a nostalgia in it too; we went always so awkward. In fact I remember a time in my life where I never thought we would ever be strangers. I remember once when I was about 12 and Brock was about 13, I had a dream that Brock and I were dating. The next day I remember being shy and awkward especially when he called me “Kid”. I went all pink and Charlie would not let it go for a whole year. Finally, when Brock asked a different girl to the joint 7th-8th grade dance Charlie let it go. I spent the whole night crying and accepted Thomas Miller’s invite. He had braces and dark hair and spent all night trying to kiss me. After the second slow dance song I joined up with my friends instead. The next day I heard a rumor going around that he said not only had we kissed, but that I let him touch my boobs. Charlie had been mad and cornered me about it. When I admitted it false, he said he taught Thomas a lesson. The next week someone “anonymously” shared a picture of Thomas at a birthday party sucking on his thumb with a stuffed animal. From there rumors spread he wet the bed every night.

We always had each others backs. It made we wonder how things ended up so differently. We all walked out together. As I reached into my pocket to order an Uber, Laurie offered to have them drive me back to my apartment.

“It’s too late for a young woman like you to hop in some random mans car.” she insisted.

“”I couldn’t bother you guys,” I said.

“No bother,” Brock said. “Might be nice to see more of the city anyway.”

Thirty minutes later I lay in bed without make up and in an old, ripped up shirt from Natalie’s older brother that he left here. Natalie was already deep asleep when I got home with one of the Harry Potter movies on full volume. With school for both of us the next day, it was important to get as much sleep as possible. But as I laid there all I could think about was Brock’s hair and his cologne. I wished things could have ended better for us all those years ago. Maybe there’s time for change now. A girl could hope.

As I finally started to drift asleep my phone’s ping jolts me awake.

Brock Boeser has texted you.

Thanks for coming tonight. I hope to see you soon.

God, it’s going to be a long night.

#brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser imagines #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #imagine

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andrewuttaro · 6 years ago

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New Look Sabres: GM 64 - PIT

We, as Buffalo Sabres fans, have reached the point in the season where we shout down those who give updates on the playoff race. Eight points back on a playoff spot with less then twenty games to go is the point at which it came this season. The outlook gets too bleak at a certain point and we all switch over to Draft Talk. Late February was that moment for us this season. I will spare you the petty optimism of recapping how farther along in the season that bleakness threshold is than in most recent years and just say that as I have accepted this reality, I’ve seen a new silver lining. Not to brag, but I got a question of mine answered on the 31 Thoughts Podcast (2/28/19 in case your interested) and the answer industry insider Elliotte Friedman gave me was actually pretty satisfactory. And that my friends, is what we call a tease. The breakdown of that and the greater considerations of this team right now is coming up after the recap so stick with me. It maybe hard to talk trash when you feel like trash about your team but here it goes: Pittsburgh, your greed is absurd. Two Stanley Cups in three years and you’re panicking that you don’t look too hot in the fourth year. Us Sabres fans are wrapping up our rebuild at the speed of smell and a playoff victory over you narcs would be the morale boost you dream of. This series would probably be a boring defensive slog in spite of the names Crosby, Malkin, Eichel and Skinner but when the Sabres make you slog they’re at their best. Buffalo would relish ushering in the end of the Penguins Era and welcoming back the scores of Western New York hockey fans who bolted your way in the late 2000s. Sabres in 6! Now back to tonight’s matchup: a stunningly fun matchup for the far side of the bleakness threshold!

The first goal of this game felt really special. Obviously, it wasn’t special because of who scored it: Jack Eichel has scored many goals and will score many more. It was a play that materialized because of a turnover but get this… NOT a Sabres turnover. Imagine that, right? Jack scores his 23rd goal of the season after a turnover and a lay up from #23. Jack sniped it high over Matt Murray’s shoulder. This game had kinetic pacing. The possession was all over the place but this time it was fun chaotic possession. Brian Duff mentioned before the game the amount of roster turnover the Penguins have gone through. Obviously that team takes making the playoffs quite a bit more seriously at the present moment and their fight for the last spot mobilized Jim Rutherford to trade like a madman. One of these such guys, someone I was surprised to discover is now playing for Pittsburgh, was Nick Bjugstad. He got the puck in front of the Sabres net from another new Penguin, Juuso Riikola, and shot it far side on Linus Ullmark. In spite of Pittsburgh’s domination in shots and faceoffs the Sabres would score next when Conor Sheary flipped the puck in via a pass from Kyle Okposo. I always enjoy a goal against a former team and it wouldn’t be Sheary’s last tally of the night.

The middle period was the home team trying to calm down the game a little bit and take control. It worked for most of the period. It was a Matt Hunwick interference call on Sidney Crosby that gave Patric Hornqvist the powerplay opportunity to even it. It was the same kind of situation that put the Penguins ahead on yet another powerplay a little over a minute later when the Pittsburgh Captain himself scored. It was 3-2 going into the third and the basic stats of this game make you think this has to be over. Pittsburgh was laying it on and let’s just be real: has luck been on the Sabres side lately? Nonetheless it’s a 60-minute game and the final frame would be instrumental. As the period went on the Sabres narrowed the shot gap and would outshoot the opposition. There were several instances you think Buffalo was about to get the equalizer. Evan Rodrigues was beating down the door. Jeff Skinner got a saucy shot from point blank when Murray was out of the way. A diving defender is who saved it and it looked like that Penguin grabbed it with his glove on the line. It wasn’t reviewed and this game went to the final three minutes 3-2. Then a shot came ringing down from the blue line straight down the center and past the visiting netminder. It looked like Sheary could have redirected it in… but no, this goal goes to the new kid. Brandon Montour got credit for his first goal as a Sabre in his first game in Buffalo. It was exuberant and I grabbed my seat in the final minutes of play just waiting for the response. It didn’t come. For the first time in a hot… month and a half(?) … I felt fully into this game as went into OT. It looked like they could win it. There was no shortage of heart-stopping drama in the extra period. A puck almost ended it for the Penguins off some dude’s forehead. Rasmus Ristolainen made some confounding moves. Just as it started to look like it might go to the shootout the former Penguin Conor Sheary saw Phil Kessel lazily skating in front of Murray. Screening and out of position Kessel opened the window for Sheary to shoot through. Goal. 4-3 Sabres win it in overtime! Or did they? There was a challenge for offsides that the broadcast never showed any relevant footage on; you know, because we’re not allowed happiness as Sabres fans, right now? The challenge failed and the victory held up. Funny thing, going to OT gave the Pens one point, that was enough for them to knock the Hurricanes out of the last remaining playoff spot for now. Small victories, right?

So how about what I teased at the start: I asked the 31 Thoughts Podcast: How do the Sabres recover from having such a great start before missing the playoffs for the eighth straight year? Friedge responded as bluntly as my question was asked. He said the best anecdote is probably making sure it doesn’t become a ninth straight year out. Friedge also mentioned the promising core and the massive step forward Jack Eichel has taken before every Insider’s mandatory cautionary statement about making sure you keep Jeff Skinner. Folks, the optimistic line (the line I always take) post-bleakness threshold is that this is a development year. We’re overcooking the upcoming stars in Rochester and elsewhere to build up to what must be the first season the Jason Botterill regime puts the emphasis on the NHL club next year. I know next year is the almost a religious chant in this City by now but optimists like me have to believe 2019-2020 is the first season the Front Office here is actually going to demand a playoff berth. Yea, it’s an awfully convenient explanation post-bleakness threshold but the Montour trade and what expiring deals will demand is a busy Draft and Free Agency will make this conclusion widely accepted by the time your reading the Offseason Retrospective in late August or Early September. It’s painful to consider how it will be another season without a Post-Season in April considering how certain that seemed in November but the excuse that Botts is still healing the sins of the Tim Murray Era works for about another season. As Friedge said, the worst answer is probably the best answer: if you fail at something eight times that you have to achieve the best route is to ask yourself how is it not going to be nine times?

Yea, that might be the biggest question mark I’ve ever typed. I think that’s the question Botts is asking himself right now. Nonetheless, with another game against Toronto tomorrow I’m sure we’ll have some vitriolic hate driving us to not mope. I know I am guilty of it too: moping because we’re over that bleakness threshold and there was so much hope a few short months ago. Well, I’m tired of it. For real this time: I’m not going to count the burdens and disappointments on this organization like some kind of masochist. This can be fun, even when the playoffs are likely out of reach now, this watching Sabres games thing can be fun. They proved it to us tonight. Like, share and comment on this blog. Tell me if I’m being too optimistic. Tell me I’m high on the fumes of this win. Tell me I’m a crazy Sabres fan. I’m not going to stop tweeting about soccer but that doesn’t mean I’m done with these Sabres yet and neither should you be, no matter which side of the bleakness threshold we’re on. Did I coin a new term tonight? I don’t know, the only thing that matters right now is if this win can get stacked with another one tomorrow. Let’s Go Buffalo!

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Seeing all the Bald for Bucks stuff at this game brings me back to when I went Bald for Bucks in college. It’s a great cause for cancer charities and I recommend you donating even if you don’t want to shave the flowing lochs.

#buffalo sabres #hockey #blog #nhl

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jwood719 · 6 years ago

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The Montour No 4 Site and Trail.

Over on Jake Ponders, a “then and now” look at an old mine site in the Pittsburgh area.

The line between these two ‘blogs got a little blurry here. I started comparing “then” photos with “now” photos that I’ve taken over the years, posting them on Jake Ponders. But, I’ve also made a couple of specific-to-the-task jaunts as well - which could well have landed on Rambles, yet remain on Ponders. Which is why the link. Le sigh.

R. Jake Wood, 2018.

#photography #pittsburgh #History!

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35joni · 5 years ago

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Big John, 1942

“Every mornin’ at the mine you could see him arrive

He stood six-foot-six and weighed two-forty-five

Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip

And everybody knew ya didn’t give no

lip to Big John.” From the Shorpy collection.

Montour No. 4 mine of the Pittsburgh Coal Company. Coal miner waiting to go underground. November, 1042. Photo by John Collier for the Office of War Information.

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demdread · 6 years ago

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Every mornin' at the mine you could see him arrive He stood six-foot-six and weighed two-forty-five Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip And everybody knew ya didn't give no lip to big John November 1942. "Pittsburgh (vicinity). Montour No. 4 mine of the Pittsburgh Coal Company. Coal miner waiting to go underground." Medium-format nitrate negative by John Collier for the Office of War Information https://www.instagram.com/p/BsulEBbFURy/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=gocppe0lg4n2

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joeinct · 8 years ago

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Montour #4 Mine of the Pittsburgh Coal Company, Miner at the End of a Day, Unknown Photographer, 1942

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aiiaiiiyo · 8 years ago

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Coal miners, Montour No. 4 Mine of the Pittsburgh Coal Company in Washington County, Pennsylvania 1942. Photo by John Collier. [1440 X 1440] Check this blog!

#HeartlessBitchLOL #historyporn #history

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jwood718 · 6 years ago

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Return to Montour No 4 Mine Site

Back in the spring, I “discovered” some photographs of a mine operation south of Pittsburgh - the Montour Number 4 (the search for the mine’s location is covered in the original post). The photos I was looking at, however, were taken in the winter, and my visit to the site was in June. So, figuring that I would be back in Pittsburgh at some point in the winter, I planned (as far as I plan anything) to return and see if I could “match” shots taken in 1942. Which I’ve now done.

Maybe the most striking of the 1942 images, taken by John Collier, Jr., was this one (below) showing a cable-car system hoisting waste rock up a hill, with a string of coal hoppers below, on Montour Rail Road trackage. In between is the tipple building (the larger structure to the left) and a powerhouse (smaller and closer to the cableway). {1}

Above: the Montour No 4 tipple site in 2018. Looking at these now, I’m not sure I was quite high enough after all. {2}

Today, the powerhouse still exists, but the rest of the site has been made-over, and of course the roads have been improved. Coal was mined in the region up until the early 1980s, but the Number 4 succumbed to flooding and was shuttered, while other sites continued for a few more years. The rail road kept going as long as there was business to be done, but with the seams getting mined out and the onset of “downsizing,” that need to pull coal died, and the Montour ceased operation completely in 1983.

Annotated view. {2} The siding tracks that passed under the tipple ran where the car park is now, below the main line.

In short order, the tracks were gone, the mine structures were gone, and (save for the powerhouse) little remained to indicate that coal was hauled up and hauled away. Interest in trail use was sufficient that in 1991 the then-two year old Montour Trail Council purchased the right-of-way. Other mine lands were also soon seen as viable for development.

Looking back up the hill over which the cable-cars ran. {2}

Remnants! Looking down as I clambered up, I found a couple curls of wire rope protruding from the ground. Seems likely they were left behind when the carway got disassembled. {2}

I got up there?! About there, I think. {2}

Standing at the base of the hill, I wondered if I might be able to find an approximate location to come near to Collier’s, and cast about for a few minutes as I considered the slope. “Where can I climb?” I spotted a likely avenue among the young trees, clambered up, picking my way from trunk to trunk, and twice saying “not quite” before I found myself maybe half-way up (as indicated above).

A wider view of the hill as seen from the Trail. {2}

On the way back to the street, I was maybe 30 yards from the guardrail (still among the trees and half-sliding down) when I heard “Sir?! Are you all right?!” I looked about and saw that a woman in her car, waiting at the stop sign, had asked after me. I suppose a tall man in a long coat and a fedora might cause someone to take notice as he fumbles down a woody hill. “I’m O.K.” I responded. “Crazy photographer!” The woman wished me well, and hoped I’d “got some good shots!” before she pulled away.

I got myself on down, plucked stickleburrs from my trousers, brushed off my coat, and went on my way.

Farther down the trackage, Collier took two shots of Hills, or Hills Junction, the nearby town that served the miners (above and below). {1} Today it’s called Lawrence, and I went along the Trail to where I hoped to find a similar view.

Coming 'round a bend and through a cut, I found a line of sight that was close to these images, but “not quite.” As I looked about, I wondered if Collier had stood at the crest of the hill when he took that longer shot; the view from the Trail appeared too close, and too low. But - the hill?! Again?!

I stared upwards, but shook my head. The hill above me resisted my thoughts of scrambling up as I had before. Still, I needed to achieve some measure of elevation off the Trail, and gripped and grabbed my way to where a large tree had afforded a slight platform where I could reasonably stand and take this shot (below).

Lawrence as seen from above the Trail. {2}

Maybe it’s “sour grapes,” but the trees are thicker now than 80 years ago, so I’m not sure that gaining an even higher elevation would have resulted in a better image. Maybe with better shoes, and some rope -- or maybe this is as good as it gets!

Winter scene along the Trail. There were quite a few places where groundwater seeps had emerged and frozen into icicles. {2}

In between (after I’d been up and down the first hillside), I found that other things were doing along the Trail. Sponsored by the Bower School House and T.A. Robinson Paving, the “Santa’s Train Off the Trail” event had tempted a fair number of the public to the site. Santa and Mrs. Claus, along with some elves, were hosting children for snacks and photographs in a caboose!

Children playing on the Trail as they wait for their turn with Santa. The caboose served as “Santa’s Train,” and though not original to the road, the car has been painted in Montour RR livery. {2}

The Robinsons (of the eponymous Paving company) own a goodly amount of the site off the Trail, where I had noted the rail road rolling stock and outdoor self-storage back in June. This day, they were hosting Santa, as Mrs. Robinson (who was directing foot traffic and chatting with friends) told me. I explained my interest in the place, and she invited me to climb the hill on the other side of the Trail to where one of the mine entrances still stood.

1953: an improved entry to the Number 4 above the Trail. {2}

No longer a mine shaft, beyond that locked door today a portion of the entrance serves as a wine shaft: Mr. Robinson got permission to use it as a cellar! Getting up to this spot was not so dramatic as there’s a roadway.

I also had a brief acquaintance with Gene Schaeffer, born, as he related it, ten “rail” miles away in Bethel Park. Living near active rail road operations, he took an early interest in railroading and the Montour, and spent several years taking photos of the road in operation in the 1970s, even as business was winding down. He also worked for the Montour during its last seven years, and to this day does his best to keep the history of the road alive. Many of the informational placards along the Trail feature his photographs.

He also asked if I would stand for a photo beside that caboose. Well, far be it from me to turn down a request like that!

Yep, that’s me: walking photo opportunity! Ha! {3}

I did take a turn in the saloon up “that hill” where the mine had once dumped its waste shale. Long since developed, I held out the briefest of hopes that there would be some place where I could turn off and get a shot down toward Lawrence - but “no dice.” The whole top of the hill is thick-set with houses along looping streets that don’t actually go anywhere except ‘round to the last one (if you’ve ever tried to navigate one of those neighborhoods you know whereof I speak).

In the vicinity of the Number 4, in 1942. {1}

Up on top of “that hill,” in 2018. {2} Much of the surrounding area looks similar to this today.

There’s even a golf course and country club, the Valleybrook, on the far side of the hill! And, after all that, I was off to other things - like coffee and doughnuts.

{1} Photos by John Collier, Jr., for the Office of War Information, 1942. (Minor processing by Jake Wood, 2018).

{2} Photos by R. Jake Wood, 2018.

{3} Photo by Gene P. Schaeffer, 2018. Thanks Gene!

Other posts concerning Pittsburgh and photographs taken for the Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information on Jake Ponders.

The photos that spurred these posts were found on the Library of Congress’ Prints and Photographs Online Catalog. Specifically, the collection of black and white negatives from the Farm Security/Office of War Information projects.

Google satellite image of the area (for the curious).

Winter scene along the Trail: Kamp’s Cut. {2}

#photography #Pittsburgh #Montour No 4 Mine #fsa/owi #our shots #library of congress #History!

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shorpyfan · 8 years ago

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Big Bad John (Montour No.4 Mine, Pittsburgh Coal Company, 1942)

#vintage #1940's #coal #coal mines #coal miner #big bad john #jimmy dean #1942 #hard work #dangerous #america

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amberstarangelle · 7 years ago

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92 Questions Revival

Found this old post in my archive. Thought it might be fun to redo it now, years later.

WHAT WAS YOUR:

1. last beverage = Cherry coke

2. last phone call = to my boss last week

3. last text message = to my friend Kade

4. last song you listened to = Dixie Boy by April Smith

5. last time you cried = hmm.. I don’t remember, but it was probably over something stupid.

HAVE YOU EVER:

6. dated someone twice = no

7. been cheated on = nope

8. kissed someone & regretted it = yeah

9. lost someone special = Yes

10. been depressed = once or twice

11. been drunk and threw up = never

LIST THREE FAVORITE COLORS:

Red, Pink, and Purple

IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU:

15. Made a new friend = yes, sort of

16. Fallen out of love = No

17. Laughed until you cried = I don’t think so

18. Met someone who changed you = no

19. Found out who your true friends are = I’m discovering

20. Found out someone was talking about you = no

21. Kissed anyone on your FB friend’s list = FB? as in Facebook? I don’t even have one anymore.

GENERAL:

22. How many people on your FB friends list do you know in real life = Don’t have one/use mine anymore

24. Do you have any pets = not anymore

25. Do you want to change your name = maybe

26. What did you do for your last birthday = had a small celebration at home

27. What time did you wake up today = 8:00 am

28. What were you doing at midnight last night = playing Pokemon Black 2

29. Name something you CANNOT wait for = Christmas

30. Last time you saw your Mother = A few weeks ago

31. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life? = I wish I was more free to do certain things

32. What are you listening to right now = Nothing at the moment

33. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom? = Yes

34. What’s getting on your nerves right now = Statistics

35. Most visited webpage = Youtube

36. Blood type = B I think?

37. Nickname = none anymore

38. Relationship Status = Mentally dating a fictional character (still)

39. Zodiac sign = Capricorn

40. Pronouns = She, her

41. Elementary = Pittsburgh, PA

42. High School = Montour High, PA

43. College = HCC, Florida

44. Hair color = dark brown

45. Long or short = shortish

46. Height = like 5′2 or something; i’m a smol

47. Do you have a crush on someone? = In real life, no

48. What do you like about yourself? = I like to say i’m pretty smart

50. Tattoos = nope

51. Righty or lefty = Righty

52. First surgery = none

53. First piercing = none

54. First best friend = Brianna

55. First sport you joined = Elementary school bowling team

56. First vacation = To Florida when i was really little

58. First pair of trainers = ?

RIGHT NOW:

59. Eating = Nothing currently

60. Drinking = nothing

61. I’m about to = take a shower

62. Listening to = nothin’

63. Waiting for = this to be done

64. Want kids? = No

65. Get Married? = Hopefully, one day

66. Career? = Author/editor

WHICH IS BETTER:

67. Lips or eyes = eyes

68. Hugs or kisses = hugs

69. Shorter or taller = shorter

70. Older or Younger = older

71. Romantic or spontaneous = romantic

72. Nice stomach or nice arms = arms

73. Sensitive or loud = sensitive

74. Hook-up or relationship = relationship

75. Trouble maker or hesitant = hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER:

76. Kissed a stranger = No

77. Drank hard liquor = NO

78. Lost glasses/contacts = Yep

79. Sex on first date = NO

80. Broke someone’s heart = yes

81. Had your own heart broken = not really, not in a romantic sense

82. Been arrested = No

83. Turned someone down = yes

84. Cried when someone died = oh, yes

85. Fallen for a friend = No

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

86. Yourself = sometimes

87. Miracles = sure

88. Love at first sight = not really

89. Heaven = i hope

90. Santa Claus = yes, for fun

91. Kiss on the first date = no

92. Angels = sure

#my posts

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