Noise or Progress, you be the Judge.

# 17 - Noise or Progress, you be the Judge.

Standing at Drumyngham, one looks south at Butler Mountain. At night, one can sometimes see the Hazleton Airport searchlight scanning the skies, shining from behind the mountain just about where the Milnesville Mines used to be. Just below that and to the east (left) slightly, in the winter when the leaves are off the trees, the headlights of cars driving down the South Old Turnpike Road (“the Old Mountain Road” as we used to call it) toward Fritzingertown can be seen.

I tried to capture this for you in a video. It was a lot harder to do than I expected but this video does give you an impression. Right in the center of the picture there is a point of light. I believe this light is from, or near, the house my Grandfather, Elmer, once owned in Fritzingertown. Below this point of light can be seen the headlights of cars and trucks moving north on I81. Close examination also gives you the red tail lights of vehicles moving south, or up the mountain. Above Elmer's house are flickering lights moving from left to right. Those are headlights of cars coming down South Old Turnpike Road. It is a much better visual experience when seen in person! The sound in the video is the noise from the interstate, again much more subdued in the video than when experienced in person.

Off to the right, or southwest, the Conyngham Gap is clear against the sky, all lit up by the lights near Interstate 81 Exit 145, the Candlewood Suites, the Hampton Inn, and a restaurant called “The Top of The Eighties”, named after the two nearest Interstates I80 & I81. It was through this gap that John Balliet first entered the valley. I think those lights are too far away for my poor smart phone to pick up. I was unable to capture any good shots of that area.

Below that stands old Sugarloaf Mountain which witnessed the Sugarloaf Massacre in 1780. This “mountain”, rather a large cone-shaped hill, has stood watch over the valley long before the English, or the French, or perhaps even American Indians, wandered past.

Interstate 81 from the
bridge at Beisel's Corner.

Cutting down across Butler Mountain at about a 3% grade, running from the Conyngham Gap down the side of the mountain and curving to the north at the foothills, then disappearing from sight behind Ransom Young’s farm, is Interstate 81. It starts in Dandridge, Tennessee and ends on Wellesley Island (near Fisher’s Landing) in New York, right at the Canadian border. In between, among many other things, I81 crosses the Little Nescopeck Creek with-in shouting distance of Cal Schaffer’s house where Nathan, Mary, Elmer, and Christie had their picture made, run’s practically on top of the spot where John Balliet had built his lean-to, and just west of the cemetery in St. Johns where so many of Philip’s descendants now rest. 

Like Elmer’s widow, Ella; Nathan’s widow, Mary, saw I81 be built too. Neither she, nor Ella liked it. Mary thought it tore up the valley terribly and according to Ella, “it just makes too much noise!” I know what she means. On March 2, 2018 the Hazleton/Drums area was hit by a “Nor’easter” that dropped five to eight inches of snow on the area in just a few hours. Somehow the guy who delivers my Standard-Speaker newspaper still got through to deliver it! When I went out to get my newspaper at 4:30AM, I realized something was very strange and different. I stood there in my front yard for a few moments wondering what it was when it suddenly hit me. There was no noise. All was silent. The storm had momentarily shut down I81 and with no trucks or cars moving up or down the mountain, or anywhere else, really, there was a quiet like I had rarely experienced before. I thought to myself, “Ella was right!” Some may call it “the Greatest Public Works Project in History”[1] but it DOES make a lot of noise!

It was all President Dwight D. Eisenhower’s fault. While serving as the Supreme Commander of Allied Forces during WWII in Europe, he had seen the advantages of having a limited access[2] national highway system that would easily enable the movement of military men and supplies around the country. I often wonder, however, why it wouldn’t, therefore, be the perfect military target as well!  However, on June 29, 1956, he signed the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956. He felt it was one of the most important achievements of his Presidency. Most historians agree.[3] But it is still noisy, well, the trucks that use it are, anyway. 

Interstate 81 was a big deal when it was built through Drums. As a boy, I remember how a house that belonged to one of Ransom Young’s uncles, Harold Young, had to be picked up and moved in 1963 just to make way for the interstate to go through. 

According to Ransom Young, the year 1965, when the Drums section of I81 was opened, was the year Drums “lost its innocence” and would never again be the same.[4] He is probably right.

Even though an exit was not put in at Beisel’s Corner as had been rumored would happen at the time, I80 & I81 offer the world plenty of access to Drums. I81 has an exit near Dorrance (Exit 155, approximately five miles north of Drums); an exit at the Conyngham Gap (Exit 145, approximately five miles south of Drums); and intersects I80 just west of I80 Exit 262 onto Route 309 (approximately two miles north of Drums). I80 exits onto Route 93 in Sybertsville (Exit 256, approximately five miles west of Drums). Clearly, an exit at Beisel’s Corners wasn’t needed to bring the world to Drums. I can attest to that given the number of cars that speed past Drumyngham on a daily basis. Nor was it needed to give Drums access to the world.

Of course, a number of the Drums from Drums didn’t need the Interstate Highway system to “see the world” as a traveler. Philip I certainly can lay claim to being a traveler having crossed Europe and the Atlantic just to get here. Although he probably would have enjoyed a super-highway across Europe, he had to settle for the Rhine.

Elmer, too, can lay claim to the title of “traveler” having fought his way across France and Belgium, crossing the Atlantic by ship twice, once to get there and once to come home. I’ve done a bit of “wandering” myself having visited Canada; London, England; South Africa; Lesotho; Zimbabwe, a month after it was born; and throughout Botswana while I was living there in 1980 – 81. I’ve also had the privilege, mostly through 4-H Membership or 4-H Employment, to visit 49 of the 50 U.S. States and the District of Columbia (I hope to get to Colorado soon to make all 50). And, yes, the Interstate system helped me quite a bit, even with Hawaii, well, not to get there but once there, certainly!

 Another thing that helped me is a technology called GPS.

Originally developed by the military, Global Positioning System (GPS) technology became available for limited public use in the early 1980’s and fully available in 2000 when President Clinton signed legislation making it so. Based on Einstein’s Theory of Relativity (no kidding!) and using satellites flying miles above the Earth’s surface, it has become almost second nature to many Americans who care little as to why or how it works, just THAT it works.[5]

I first came in contact with GPS in 2006. I was in Louisville, KY talking about 4-H during the National Afterschool Association Conference and needed to visit McCracken County 4-H Youth Development Agent Danielle Rudolph across the state in Paducah. So, I rented a car and it came with GPS. In a report submitted after the trip, I commented about the GPS system saying that each time I deviated from the designated route, “…my little computer friend would chastise me with, ‘please return to the highlighted route!’” My report ended by describing the GPS system as “the COOLEST thing!!”

It is probably true that every one of the Drums, from George through Elmer, would be in total shock if they could see the valley today. Harry would be, perhaps, less shocked. He would simply shake his head at the number of houses built since he died in 1986, and the number of cars that now drive way too fast past the front of his house. He would be so tickled to learn about “smart phones” and email, and the world wide web. Eleanor saw these things, she even used email albeit slowly, once she got used to it.

One more thing of interest can be seen looking south from Drumyngham. Just to the left, on the south side of I81, just after the big northerly curve, stands a peculiar metal tower - in the lingo of 2018, a “Cell Tower”. It is one of many such towers spread across the country that are required for all “cell phones” to work. It is the reason telephones don’t need to be attached by a wire to the wall anymore; that’s a bit oversimplified, of course, but to the point.

 …as seen from Drumyngham.

County Road at Beisels Corner around 1910.
This one looks to be more mud than dirt.
Photo by Edwin Finstermacher.

Almost gone are the telephones that were once attached to our walls, with buttons to push that “dialed” the number you wished to reach. Gone ARE the telephones with actual dials, discs one turned that “ticked” out the number you wished to be connected to. Gone before those were the telephones you cranked and then asked someone else, someplace else, to “connect me please.”

Gone are the dirt roads traveled mostly by horse and buggies. Long-time Drums resident Robert Shelhamer once said he could remember a time when the Township had only a ½ mile of paved roads. He said that as late as 1960 nearly all the township roads were unpaved.[6]

Drums Post Office, July 27, 2018

Gone is George’s tavern and Abraham’s stage coach stop. Even the Post Office is moved away from Drums Corner over to a mall on Route 309.

Gone are the wool mills, carding mills, grist mills, saw mills, dry-goods stores, blacksmiths, saddlers, coal mines, electric trollies, WB&H railway, and the silence of a winter night.

Even the Drums, themselves, are almost all gone from the valley. Although a few Drums are still in the area here or there, those of us still living here in the Drums valley could probably now be counted on the fingers of only one hand.

August 10, 1995, approximately 6:00 am.

What remains is the future and the future, oddly enough, is represented by another Philip Drum. Although the clock on the delivery room wall at the Eastern Maine Medical Center read “4:56” that afternoon, my wristwatch was showing the time as “4:54” when the world first heard the cries of Philip Drum^{(Ronald, Harry, Elmer, Nathan A., John, Philip, George, Jacob, Philip)}.

August 10, 1995
approximately 6:00 pm

August 10, 1995 started out as a beautiful day in Bangor, Maine and it only improved as the day moved on. Of course, I wasn’t the one in labor so my opinions and those of my wife may differ a bit on this detail. However, we can certainly agree that the day ended as beautifully as it possibly could. When the nurse first handed new-born Philip to me I said, “Happy Birthday, Philip” and then introduced him to his mom. 

On October 8, 1995, my 38^th birthday anniversary, Philip was baptized in the St. John’s U.C.C. He was baptized Philip (after the original Philip of ten generations previous), Ronald (after myself), Dupuis (his mother’s maiden name), Drum. I like to think that in addition to the family members who were present in the church to witness the event, also present were those eight previous generations of mothers and fathers, each smiling and watching and nodding their approval.

Twenty-two years later, on May 12, 2018, the day before Mother’s Day, we all watched again as Philip’s name was called and he walked to the front of Alfond Arena on the campus of the University of Maine in Orono, Maine to accept his Bachelor of Science degree in Anthropology.

Each Drum before him made his or her mark on their world which made Philip’s world possible. Now we wait to see what adventures, what marks, will be added by THIS Philip.

Like two “P’s” in a pod, or on the quad, as the case may be.
Note the UMaine Black Bear behind them.

 In our next post February 11, 2019, we go back in time again, back to the first Philip, to begin an investigation into the Drums and their systems of faith.

We’ll begin with #18, The Reformed.

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[1] “History of the Interstate Highway System”, U.S. Dept. of Transportation, Federal Highway Administration. https://www.fhwa.dot.gov/interstate/history.cfm accessed 3/8/2018

[2] “Limited access” means one must use specified entrance/exits to gain entry onto, or get off of, the highway as opposed to crossroads/intersections/driveways.

[3] “History of the Interstate Highway System”

[4] Katchur, Mark, “Creation of Interstates 80, 81 began sprawl in Butler Township”, Hazleton Standard-Speaker, May 28, 2002, p 1.

[5] The History of Car GPS Navigation, www.pcmag.com accessed 3/5/18

[6] Katchur

They call it Progress

# 16 – They call it Progress

Harry Drum, 1933

The Drum's car. I believe that's Harry at the wheel
but, of course, he was too young yet to drive.

 It appears the Drums of Drums made it through the Great Depression of the 1930’s well enough. “Never having had much money to speak of”, as Ella Drum used to say, they did o.k. Elmer and Ella lived off Elmer’s postal salary and what they raised and could make on their farm.

A few cows provided milk, chickens were kept for eggs and meat, a few pigs, a garden that provided vegetables and herbs, and even a few hives of honeybees for wax and honey – the family “made do”.  

Elmer Drum is on the left.
 I believe the man milking the cow is Elmer Coogan.

Life was all about “putting up” (canning) meats and vegetables to carry the family through the long winter months. Smoked meats and sausage added to the dinner table. Ella could almost always be found in the kitchen; when not washing or mending clothing; baking bread, buns, pies, cakes, or cookies.

Canned Green Beans.
I really don’t know when
these were canned, or even
what is in those
other jars (red beets?).
Frankly, I’m a little afraid
to touch them

The last two cakes of Lard Soap.
I believe this batch was made in 1966.

Lard and lye were boiled together to make soap. Sweaters were knitted, socks were darned, holes were patched; you made things last. 

If you grew up on a farm you knew how to butcher a calf, slaughter a chicken, fix the tractor, and pick potato bugs[1]!  

You could make jams, jellies, and other preserves, cure a ham or a fever, stop a cough, cut down a tree and turn it into lumber. Apple sauce, apple butter, apple pies, apple vinegar, apple cider, apple dumplings and even scrapple, which has nothing to do with apples at all, unless you spread the apple butter on it (which is yummy!), could all be made. Blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, even gooseberries, were grown, collected, sometimes dried, and always enjoyed.

The Schaffer's stop by for a visit! From left to right, 
Cal Schaffer, Laura Schaffer, Mary “Grandma” Schaffer. 
Walking beside wagon is Ed Schaffer.

The wood is pine so the cabinet is actually very light
and easy to lift. It was once used as a paint closet
and sat on the back porch for a few decades.
There are places at the bottom and in back
where mice gnawed holes.
It’s a wonder it is in as good a condition as it is!

Using his blacksmith skills, Nathan fashioned much of what he needed from metal. He taught his son, Elmer, how to do that as well, which got him an early job at the mines.

Carpentry, however, seems to be the craft of choice for many of the Drums. Philip II is listed as a carpenter in the 1810 Census. His son, Edward, helped build the Drums Methodist Church. Nathan put that skill to good use in the mines. Elmer was using his carpentry skills even earlier than his blacksmithing skills. I think of him every time I look at the wonderful 7’ corner cabinet he made. Ella wasn’t sure if he’d made it just before leaving to fight in France during WW1 or just after he returned.

Elmer, in turn, taught many of his carpentry skills to his son Harry who put them to good use to build, among other things, a house in 1953, the house I call “Drumyngham”. It sits on 6.3 acres of land on what is known today as West Butler Drive; approximately 1.3 miles west of Drums Corner where George built his hotel in 1820 and Josiah and Stephen had their dry goods store in the 1870’s; and about two tenths of a mile west of Beisels Corner where John Balliet built his lean-to when he first arrived in the valley back in 1784.

The land Drumyngham sits on was sold to my dad by his mother in 1959. Ella and Elmer had purchased the land from Calvin Schaffer in 1941.

Walking south from the house, across the fields or down Young’s Lane, toward Butler Mountain, one comes upon a house foundation where once a home had stood looking out over the Little Nescopeck Creek. It was Cal Schaffer’s house but served four years as the home of Nathan, Mary, Elmer and Christie in the early 1900’s.

It was on this house’s porch where the Drums had probably their only family portrait made.

 

Left to right: Elmer, Nathan, Mary, Christie. I don’t know how the photo was damaged.

I took this photo of the
house in August, 1972.

Empty for many years and becoming a hazard, Ransom Young tore it down in the mid-1980’s.

Ella saw the Interstate Highway Route 81 be built across the valley in the early 1960’s. It almost followed the path the Wilkes-Barre and Hazleton (WB&H) Railway took as it came down the mountain and across the valley in the early part of the 20^th Century. 

The WB&H was an electric powered railway that pioneered the protected third rail, the third rail being the source of the electrical power. It’s the system that is used today to power the Metro Trains in Washington, D.C. It seems most people today think of the WB&H as a means of travel for passengers. However, it also hauled quite a bit of freight.

 The WB&H opened in 1903 and made an hourly run back and forth between Wilkes-Barre and Hazleton almost daily until its final run was made in 1932,[2] 1933 if you include the Mack Rail Busses that ran for a year[3]. The WB&H, which quite likely was the reason the Stage Coach ended its run and the Stage Coach Stop Inn went out of business, itself succumbed to the advent of paved roads and internal combustion engines.

It was a fairly safe conveyance although it did have its moments. One story often told was how a large rattlesnake once curled up on a switchstand for a late afternoon snooze. A passenger car heading South needed to switch there to a siding to allow a heavily loaded Coal “drag” to pass by. The snake had other ideas. Eventually, man overcame reptile, at least they got it to move to a different napping place, and commerce was able to move forward once again. Another story involves a two-year old girl who fell asleep in the back of the car. It wasn’t until the run arrived at the garage in Hazleton that she was discovered. A special run back to Ashley had to be made to reunite the very worried parents with the still happily sleeping child.[4] 

A third story was told in the Hazleton Standard-Sentinel on January 20, 1920. As the operator, Engineman Harry Cunius, ran his car at a fast pace along the Nescopeck Mountain, it apparently disturbed a flock of Quail from their resting place. The Quail took flight and, choosing a rather unfortunate flight path for escape, flew up against the car. Neither Harry nor his passengers were hurt, but it was reported that two of the birds lost their lives in the incident.[17} Below we tell the story of a far greater tragedy involving Engineman Harry Cunius.

Sometimes it seemed like nature, herself, was working against the train; which, of course, she was! Four days after the incident with the quail, the 1:10 pm to Wilkes-Barre was badly damaged by a rockfall along the right-of-way. A large boulder broke loose from the wall and struck the back end of the car. Luckily, the damage was only to the car, itself. Although rather shaken by the experience, none of the passengers were injured. [18]

Some of the stories are less enjoyable that still are told. In 1903, the year the line opened, Cars 204 and 119 collided when one of them lost control and became a runaway.[5] Rough way to start a railroad! Even still, the WB&H was all about safety. In fact, the road was built so it never had a street crossing. This was originally done to protect the third rail but it also added the safety aspect of the train never running into any automobiles.

However, it did. In one of the few places along the route where the street crossed a bridge over the line instead of the other way around, a driver lost control of his car, the car jumped the curb on the bridge and fell onto the tracks below directly in front of an on-coming WB&H car. All seven of the automobile’s passengers; mother, father, and five children; died in the accident.[6]

Then, of course, there is the horrible death of Engineman Harry Cunius. Without going into too many details here of the why and how it happened, the result was a head-on collision at St. Johns on May 8, 1928. One Engineman was able to jump to safety but Harry was trapped in the wreckage of his car and died in the fire that resulted from the wreck.[7] Twenty-seven passengers were hurt but thankfully none seriously. Seven were admitted to hospital for conditions such as contusions, lacerations, a concussion and a few broken bones. [8]

One man who was in the growing crowd of people watching the removal of victims was overheard saying, “Am I lucky? I was scheduled to board that car for Wilkes-Barre but missed it.”[9] Mr. Max Friedlander, County Assessor, also missed that car causing great concern for his family because they knew he always took that car.  It wasn’t until they learned he missed the car that they were able to relax.[10] Mrs. William Smith, Jr.’s family wasn’t so lucky. She had been in Hazleton visiting her in-laws and didn’t miss the car she had hoped would take her home to Pittston. She was one of the victims who had to be taken to Hazleton State Hospital.[11]  

Mr. Cunius was laid to rest in the Mt. View Cemetery, West Hazleton, PA on Friday, May 11, 1928.[12]

The train and its tracks have long been gone. However, if you look carefully, there are still many hints left in the ground that tell us where the WB&H ran; fewer, however, each day. On April 9, 2018, Pete Medvecky, life-long resident of Drums, took me into the woods to see some of these “hints” from the past.[13]  

The place where SOTR crosses the Little Nescopeck.

We stopped first at the WB&H Drums Station. The station is located approximately 350 feet, maybe less, just west (to the right in this photo) of the place where South Old Turnpike Road (SOTR) crosses the Little Nescopeck. It was probably the station Ella and Elmer would have used to catch the train had they wanted to ride to Hazleton or Wilkes-Barre. I wasn't smart enough to get some photos in April, so I returned in November, after many of the leaves were down again, to get this photo and the following photos. That's why the photos don't "look" like April!

All that remains of the station is the concrete platform, building foundation, and entry steps.

Taking a photo of these remains proved more difficult than I thought!
This photo is looking from west to east. The Little Nescopeck is to our right.
It is probably the storage area that was behind the loading dock. The Loading
Dock side was built at a higher level than the passenger platform side so, if you were to walk
"through" this photo, you would step down to the passenger platform directly ahead.

Now we are looking east to west. This appears to have been the inside of the
passenger side of the station. The Little Nescopeck is now to our left which is
also the train-side. The station's front was to the right in the photo.

These are the stairs in the front of the station, almost in the middle
of the structure. The creek is directly in front of us, the passenger
side is to our left and the loading dock is to our right.

Leaving the station, we walked over to, and up upon, the western support for the trestle that once passed over South Old Turnpike Road and the Little Nescopeck Creek.

The Western Support is to the right in this photo. I didn't re-climb it in November. On the left is the Eastern Support.

Looking from Drums side toward Fritzingertown. I was
standing right at the "Y" in the road.
Behind me left is the road to Drums Corner.
Behind me right is the road to Beisel's Corner

Soon, it is rumored, these support walls will be gone forever as PennDOT (Pennsylvania Department of Transportation) replaces the bridge over the creek while straightening out the curves.  I hope the rumors are not true and they don’t remove these support walls. I like them just as they are.

Climbing back down, we crossed South Old Turnpike Road and followed the rail bed until we came upon the Kis-Lyn Station, again just slabs of concrete that provided hints of the activities that took place there in the days just after the turn of the 19^th to the 20^th Century. In November, I didn't return to the Kis-Lyn Station for photos. Seen one station foundation, seen them all!

 

This is a postcard of Fritzingertown in 1906.  The arrow points to the Embling Farm which Elmer purchased in 1919. I see the outhouse was empty when the photo was taken since the door is open. Circled is the WB&H Kis-Lyn Station. The angle at which this photo was taken makes it look much closer to the Embling Farm than it really is. The WB&H Drums Station, and the location of the above photos, is hidden by the tree on the photo’s left. The road curving up the hill is headed toward Drums Corner. WB&H tracks can be seen running across the bottom of the photo. The WB&H horseshoe curve at Kis-Lyn is off the right side of the photo.

This photo of the train rolling over the Nescopeck River
in St. Johns is posted on the
 Butler Township Website’s History Page.

While standing on what’s left of the train station, one imagines ladies dressed in Edwardian Tea Dresses boarding the train for a trip to Wilkes-Barre perhaps to visit their sick grandma or for a day of shopping; or a young couple, clamoring aboard, laughing and involved only with each other, oblivious to all around them, on their way to Blytheburn for a picnic.

In this picture, taken by Edward Finstermacher about 1910 looking west, we see the WB&H trestle at Beisels Corner.

The WB&H Beisels Corner Station is just off the picture to the left. Pete and I didn’t look for the Beisels Corner station. It no longer exists; covered over by Interstate 81. Lifelong Drums resident, Bob Reed[16], told me he lived in what was once the WB&H Beisels Station. His house, the station, "was right in the middle of the northbound lane of 81. Yes, sir, and our barn sat right in the middle of the southbound lane! That was a well-built house! When they tried to blow it up the first time, to put the roadway through, it didn't budge. They had to do it again! There was a siding there too, where the freight runs would pull off to deliver their loads. They'd pull up and the men would shovel the gravel off into big piles beside the tracks. Tar was delivered there too. There's probably still a few feet thick of tar left back in there behind Young's house." "You saw the trains run?" I asked. I was sure Bob was not old enough to have seen the trains. "No!, he laughed, "Those trains had stopped running by the time my memories begin. There was an old engine that sat down there but I don't know what ever happened to it" 

Interstate 81, looking South, as seen from the bridge at Beisel's Corner. 
I had a hard time getting the picture through the safety fence, 
part of which can be seen in the lower left-hand corner of the photo. 
Mr. Reed's house would have been behind this photo, looking the other way.
This image is looking south; the station was just north of this bridge.

I often wish the train still made its run, even if it was only through the Drums Valley and not all the way to Wilkes-Barre. How thrilling it would be to ride it down Butler Mountain, around the Kis-Lyn horseshoe curve, over the Little Nescopeck, up to Beisels Corner, and over to St. Johns. One author called riding the WB&H a “thoroughly spine-tingling experience…through ravishingly beautiful mountain scenery: Spring, Summer, Fall or Winter.”[14] Just to see it run, especially at night, casting its “eerie blue and green flashes from its third-rail shoes as it wound its way up grade…”[15] would be a thrill itself!

I wonder if I’d have appreciated the WB&H then as little as I appreciate seeing the trucks make their way up Butler Mountain on I-81 now. For me, watching from Drumyngham, all I usually notice is the noise they make and how unnatural they are compared to the natural beauty that surrounds them. That’s how I imagine it was for Elmer and Ella, and later Harry and Clara, too, when the WB&H ran by. Since the train ran rather close to their home in Fritzingertown, they must have experienced the WB&H as all noise and unnatural lights breaking into their quiet evening as the WB&H rushed past on its way off the mountain and on to Kis-Lyn or making its return to Hazleton.

Unless I’m driving on it, I often think of I-81 as a nuisance. Yet, looked at in a different way, the trucks on I-81, at least at night, really are quite beautiful. At night, each tractor-trailer glows, outlined in red lights. During the day they look like small toys as they run up and down the mountain. I’m sure the rose-tinted lenses of nostalgia we’ll wear tomorrow will have us looking back on I-81 in a kindly way, as they do now when we wear them to look back at the things and events of yesteryear, such as the WB&H.

Return on January 28, 2019, to read about even MORE “progress” in #17, “Noise or Progress, you be the Judge.”

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[1] Potato Bugs, in my estimation, are the larva of the Colorado Potato Beetle. A fine picture of the little, pink beetle larva I used to pick off our potato plants can be found at: https://news.psu.edu/story/451295/2017/02/18/research/three-way-dance-between-herbivores-plants-and-microbes-unveiled

More information about this pest can be had at: https://ento.psu.edu/extension/factsheets/colorado-potato-beetle

[2] Quinby, Cdr. E. J., Wilkes-Barre and Hazleton Railway, (Fredon, NJ: Model Craftsman Publishing Corp., 1972)

[3] The Lehigh Traction Company which owned and operated the WB&H, ceased operation in 1932.  The large interurban cars were then replaced by three Mack Rail buses which operated between Wilkes-Barre and Hazle Park for approximately 1 more year, the WB&H totally ceasing operations 9/17/1933. See: http://www.northeast.railfan.net/wbh.html accessed 9/18/2018.

[4] Quinby, pp 58 - 61

[5] “110 Years Ago”, Hazleton Standard-Speaker, April 6, 2018, p A 18.

[6] Quinby, pp 59 - 60

[7] Quinby, pp 47 - 55

[8] “Three-fold Probe into Wreck: Conductor makes Statement: Injured in Good Condition”, The Plain Speaker, Hazleton, PA, Wednesday Afternoon, May 9, 1928, p 1.

[9] “Man Missed Car”, The Plain Speaker, Hazleton, PA, Wednesday Afternoon, May 9, 1928, p 3.

[10] “Missed Car and Wreck”, The Plain Speaker, Hazleton, PA, Wednesday Afternoon, May 9, 1928, p 3.

[11] “Was Visiting Here”, The Plain Speaker, Hazleton, PA, Wednesday Afternoon, May 9, 1928, p 3.

[12] “Three-fold Probe into Wreck: Conductor makes Statement: Injured in Good Condition”, The Plain Speaker, Hazleton, PA, Wednesday Afternoon, May 9, 1928,p 1.

[13] Pete Medvecky interview and hike conducted April 9, 2018.

[14] Quinby, p 85

[15] Quinby, p 85
[16] Reed, Robert, Interview took place at the Butler Township Active Adult Center in Drums on January 16, 2020.

[17] "100 Years Ago", Hazleton Standard-Speaker, January 20, 2020, p A 2.
[18] "100 Years Ago", Hazleton Standard-Speaker, January 24, 2020, p A 2