Rachel, my daughter writes on Substack, too. Her name is Patty Davidson under Eliana Ink. Anyway, she introduced me to The Ruins Project and you. I fell in love with the place. When you had a call for artists, I was thrilled because I wanted so much to be a part of that place! Your place. Anyway, I entered my first mosaic ever and it was accepted! When I excitedly told Patty my piece was accepted, she smiled and nodded and asked, "Did you tell her about your grandfather?" I said, "No...." And her question has haunted me for months. Pap was a coal miner in Fayette County. My dad was born in a patch called Alicia 2. Anyway, Pap worked in the mines when they used to take canaries down into them. He was trained on a gas meter shortly before he retired. They asked him to come out of retirement to train someone on how to read the meter, which he did. Some time later, that mine exploded. I think it started with an R. Anyway, Patty was disappointed I didn't tell you about my connection with coal mining in Fayette County, so to ease my motherly guilt, I am telling you now. One more thing-- I was a teacher and for my continuing education I took a course on the history of coal mining in western PA. As a field trip my class went to a place called Ed mine. A mine they left open for tours for educational purposes. We rode a train down into the pitch blackness of the earth. It was the scariest time in my life! I nearly had a panic attack! I'm sure I was the only one crying silently hidden in the shadows of the flashlight the guide held, showing us how the men sometimes had to lie in crevices to chip away at the mine walls, sometimes in water. I came away with a whole new respect for my Pap and all the men who worked the mines. Sorry this is so long. I usually leave the writing to you and my daughters, Patty, and now her oldest sister is on Substack, too-- Vanessa Doughty, under Fields and Valleys. Have a wonderful day digging, Rachel, and thank you. My conscience is clear now.
Dearest Jean, Thank you SO much for taking the time to give me these important details. Of course, your daughter was right! Your grandfather worked with canaries. Can you remember any little wisps of memories about how he felt about that? I have heard that many men become very close to their canaries and sometimes even built tiny coffins for them when they died. Can you imagine? I will look up where the Alicia 2 Patch was and was the exploded mine possibly Robena? It was in Greene County, 1962.
I have heard of the Ed Mine tours and hope to go someday. I am so happy your conscience is clear! What a good thing that is. Merry Christmas to you and your family.
Aaw… thank you so much! Yes, it was the Robena mine. I didn't realize it was Greene Co. I hope you do get to experience the Educational mine. It was traumatic for me but I'm glad I went. No memory about the canary birds. I was little at the time and thought it was so nice Pap has a pet to take to work with him. You and Hubby have a merry merry Christmas, dear Rachel, and the happiest new year! 💕
I love being right.😉 And I always enjoy your posts, Rachel! Thank you for your kind words and replies!
My great-grandfather's family (Jean's Pap & family) lived in Monongahela Twp, Greene County in 1930, then in Gates (German Twp), Fayette County in 1940, and finally in Masontown, Fayette County in 1950.
Another fun little fact: My grandparents (Jean's parents) lived in the same community (labeled "Pen Pit Coal Co" by the Census taker) for a few years as kids, but I don't think they ever knew. They led separate lives and met in Masontown almost 20 years later, and then were married for 59 years. I just happened to find their families listed on different pages of a Census sheet one day as I was doing research.
Rachel, so often the things you write seem perfectly, impossibly, personally timed to be what I need on a particular day. I wonder how many others experience your writing that way? What a gift you have, you bring, you are.
So much to think about...as a hospice volunteer I have had the honor of being with those in transition...powerful and haunting...love the part about TT!!!
A mystery that doesn't have to be so. Fear that doesn't need to be fear. I struggle with embracing this reality, but everyday it's in my thoughts. How will I meet it? When will it knock? Loved your words here.
When my grandma used to worry about my dad and uncle jumping judicial ditches on dirt bikes, Grandpa would say, "when it's our time, it's our time, dear."
Can't control it all.
Didn't know he said that until my aunt told us during the eulogy, but I haven't stopped thinking about it since.
Yes. Thank you for reading, Adam. Those are the kinds of words that I find myself zooming in on now. One that my mother remembers her father saying is, death comes like a thief in the night.
I am so grateful for how you honor the passing of time and those who visited here before you. Death is such an integral part of life. Recognizing and honoring, is important. This can only help us face our own precious time.
Rachel, I agree that we must accept death, acknowledge it. I would go a step further. I believe we should be able to choose its timing. Especially with the very old. Why should the old and infirm suffer in hospitals and nursing homes when they can't do for themselves nor can family members look after them. If they choose to die, I think they have a right. So many don't have a good death. They suffer.
My mother is 103. She is of sound mind and has been living independently in a senior center. She fell and broke her femur. She didn't want surgery. She wanted to die. She kept asking us to give her a "pill". She asked the doctors for a "pill". We had to explain to her that even thought we live in a state with assisted suicide, she didn't qualify. She did have the surgery, and she did go to a God-awful nursing home where she kept talking about dying and is now back home with nurses 6 hours a day. She is beginning to walk again. It was not her choice. Even though I am glad she is on the mend, I also wish we could have honored her wish.
Thank you for sharing these difficult thoughts, Ann. I agree with much of what you say. So, so many do not get the blessing of a good death. Most?
Your mother's story is heartbreaking. What a truly exceptional woman she must be though. And the stories she must have tucked away in her sound mind. I see her being here as a miracle, although I am not there with her and you to understand the hardships. One of my greatest regrets of The Ruins is not getting to meet any of the miners of Banning 2. They had all died by the time I came to begin the mosaics. If only I could have sat with them in nursing homes or back bedrooms, I would have made a fool out of myself trying to find ways to get them to talk about the past. I am glad she is on the mend for now. May God bless you both in the time to come.
Rachel, my daughter writes on Substack, too. Her name is Patty Davidson under Eliana Ink. Anyway, she introduced me to The Ruins Project and you. I fell in love with the place. When you had a call for artists, I was thrilled because I wanted so much to be a part of that place! Your place. Anyway, I entered my first mosaic ever and it was accepted! When I excitedly told Patty my piece was accepted, she smiled and nodded and asked, "Did you tell her about your grandfather?" I said, "No...." And her question has haunted me for months. Pap was a coal miner in Fayette County. My dad was born in a patch called Alicia 2. Anyway, Pap worked in the mines when they used to take canaries down into them. He was trained on a gas meter shortly before he retired. They asked him to come out of retirement to train someone on how to read the meter, which he did. Some time later, that mine exploded. I think it started with an R. Anyway, Patty was disappointed I didn't tell you about my connection with coal mining in Fayette County, so to ease my motherly guilt, I am telling you now. One more thing-- I was a teacher and for my continuing education I took a course on the history of coal mining in western PA. As a field trip my class went to a place called Ed mine. A mine they left open for tours for educational purposes. We rode a train down into the pitch blackness of the earth. It was the scariest time in my life! I nearly had a panic attack! I'm sure I was the only one crying silently hidden in the shadows of the flashlight the guide held, showing us how the men sometimes had to lie in crevices to chip away at the mine walls, sometimes in water. I came away with a whole new respect for my Pap and all the men who worked the mines. Sorry this is so long. I usually leave the writing to you and my daughters, Patty, and now her oldest sister is on Substack, too-- Vanessa Doughty, under Fields and Valleys. Have a wonderful day digging, Rachel, and thank you. My conscience is clear now.
Dearest Jean, Thank you SO much for taking the time to give me these important details. Of course, your daughter was right! Your grandfather worked with canaries. Can you remember any little wisps of memories about how he felt about that? I have heard that many men become very close to their canaries and sometimes even built tiny coffins for them when they died. Can you imagine? I will look up where the Alicia 2 Patch was and was the exploded mine possibly Robena? It was in Greene County, 1962.
I have heard of the Ed Mine tours and hope to go someday. I am so happy your conscience is clear! What a good thing that is. Merry Christmas to you and your family.
Aaw… thank you so much! Yes, it was the Robena mine. I didn't realize it was Greene Co. I hope you do get to experience the Educational mine. It was traumatic for me but I'm glad I went. No memory about the canary birds. I was little at the time and thought it was so nice Pap has a pet to take to work with him. You and Hubby have a merry merry Christmas, dear Rachel, and the happiest new year! 💕
I love being right.😉 And I always enjoy your posts, Rachel! Thank you for your kind words and replies!
My great-grandfather's family (Jean's Pap & family) lived in Monongahela Twp, Greene County in 1930, then in Gates (German Twp), Fayette County in 1940, and finally in Masontown, Fayette County in 1950.
Another fun little fact: My grandparents (Jean's parents) lived in the same community (labeled "Pen Pit Coal Co" by the Census taker) for a few years as kids, but I don't think they ever knew. They led separate lives and met in Masontown almost 20 years later, and then were married for 59 years. I just happened to find their families listed on different pages of a Census sheet one day as I was doing research.
Aw
Wow, thank-you, sincerely, for sharing your remembering.
Rachel, so often the things you write seem perfectly, impossibly, personally timed to be what I need on a particular day. I wonder how many others experience your writing that way? What a gift you have, you bring, you are.
Thank you, dear. I'm so happy to hear that. ❤️
Dear Erika, You hear and see every day. ♥️♥️♥️
So much to think about...as a hospice volunteer I have had the honor of being with those in transition...powerful and haunting...love the part about TT!!!
Hospice work is God's work. I have so much respect for that, Ruth. Glad you like the TT detail.
I also loved this. Thank-you, Ruth.
A mystery that doesn't have to be so. Fear that doesn't need to be fear. I struggle with embracing this reality, but everyday it's in my thoughts. How will I meet it? When will it knock? Loved your words here.
The simple fact of you asking the questions gets you closer to the answer. Thank you, Sandra.
Love that everyone clapped for your grandmother on her death bed. A good death indeed. I fear dementia more than death.
Agreed. There are fates worse than death. Keep adding the good protein to your diet.
When my grandma used to worry about my dad and uncle jumping judicial ditches on dirt bikes, Grandpa would say, "when it's our time, it's our time, dear."
Can't control it all.
Didn't know he said that until my aunt told us during the eulogy, but I haven't stopped thinking about it since.
Yes. Thank you for reading, Adam. Those are the kinds of words that I find myself zooming in on now. One that my mother remembers her father saying is, death comes like a thief in the night.
I truly believe it.
I am so grateful for how you honor the passing of time and those who visited here before you. Death is such an integral part of life. Recognizing and honoring, is important. This can only help us face our own precious time.
Rachel, I agree that we must accept death, acknowledge it. I would go a step further. I believe we should be able to choose its timing. Especially with the very old. Why should the old and infirm suffer in hospitals and nursing homes when they can't do for themselves nor can family members look after them. If they choose to die, I think they have a right. So many don't have a good death. They suffer.
My mother is 103. She is of sound mind and has been living independently in a senior center. She fell and broke her femur. She didn't want surgery. She wanted to die. She kept asking us to give her a "pill". She asked the doctors for a "pill". We had to explain to her that even thought we live in a state with assisted suicide, she didn't qualify. She did have the surgery, and she did go to a God-awful nursing home where she kept talking about dying and is now back home with nurses 6 hours a day. She is beginning to walk again. It was not her choice. Even though I am glad she is on the mend, I also wish we could have honored her wish.
Thank you for sharing these difficult thoughts, Ann. I agree with much of what you say. So, so many do not get the blessing of a good death. Most?
Your mother's story is heartbreaking. What a truly exceptional woman she must be though. And the stories she must have tucked away in her sound mind. I see her being here as a miracle, although I am not there with her and you to understand the hardships. One of my greatest regrets of The Ruins is not getting to meet any of the miners of Banning 2. They had all died by the time I came to begin the mosaics. If only I could have sat with them in nursing homes or back bedrooms, I would have made a fool out of myself trying to find ways to get them to talk about the past. I am glad she is on the mend for now. May God bless you both in the time to come.
I think if your mother’s mind is still good it has to be a gift from God. Learn everything you can well she is still here.
I have so many questions I long to ask now that it is too late to listen.