a trip down "Memory Lane".

Yesterday I drove my Mother down to where she grew up. I thought it might be nice for her to drive around the streets she knew as a young girl, see her home as a child and other familiar places of days past. So we drove down to Pottsville, Pa . The town was one of the top towns  "back in the day" but traveling down through the narrow streets it looked a little tired and worn. We met up with my friend Sharon before the "tour" began. She lives just about a half hour away so we decided to meet for a bit to eat. First stop was my mothers home. A place she was born in during the year 1923, a place she shared with eight siblings and her parents. He mother, my grandmother who I never had the chance to meet died shortly after giving birth to her ninth child. My mother was only Nine.  My grandfather was a Machinist and my mom said while he had to work out of town often they were lucky because during the Depression he always was able to find work.
The home looked nothing as I remembered it as a child. Back then, it was tastefully, modestly painted in earthy browns and tans. It had rich hardwood floors and woodwork on the inside, carved wooden banisters ,glass doorknobs and claw foot bathtubs, large windows with (for me at the time) interesting "wavy" glass.. My earliest memory also included red brick sidewalks and cobblestone streets ,before they were modernized.

photograph  courtesy of Sharon Nunan

As a child when we would go up to visit I have fond memories of playing in the basement in the huge pile of coal that was used for heating.  My mother never was very happy about my attraction to it,as I would come up covered in coal soot and usually catch hell for it.  The other thing I always enjoyed was taking a walk a little way down the side street where a neighbor had a huge coop of homing pigeons . I'd spend HOURS there.

 Lastly the third floor was always captivating to me. I think my brother once told me a ghost lived up there and I would sneak up to it. Climbing the steep narrow staircase to get to it. . Slowly opening to door, never finding anything scary but it was a neat quiet place with big windows almost floor to ceiling . I think that was mostly why I was told not to go up there for fear that I might fall out the window is my guess.

Next stop was just around the corner. The Yuengling home. My mom went to school with them and my Dad LOVED that beer LONG before it has hip and happening.
I could not really get a good photo but I always remembered how beautiful that home was and it still is.

 






















Next spot was around the corner to where my Grandfather would grab a beer or two, and my dad when we were up for a visit.
Lotzs café. Which looked like it was suspended in time. Vacant but looked just as I remembered.
















We then continued on and went to my Great grandmothers home where my Mother has many fond memories, later owned by my Aunt Rita .

photograph courtesy of Sharon Nunan

We had lunch in town and the drove to St.Clair on the way home and stopped by my Dad's home. He lived there from a young boy to his late teens. His Dad worked in the coal mines and died fairly young of Black Lung that was the demise of many miners of that time .
My Dad worked in the mines for a short while but entered into the military at 19 . The place looked great. The last time I was there it was just after my Grandmother had passed away. She was 96 and still living on her own. The place was in bad need of TLC with with paint peeling away from the wood of the house and shutters, porch railing of iron old and rusty. Roof shingles missing and others frayed.
My Grandmother had a "thing' about banks and when my Dad and Uncle were getting the place ready for sale they found thousands of dollars stashed here and there. My Dad always said he had betted there was more that they just had not found. Hmm, I wonder?









































So overall it was a nice day. I am glad I got my mom down to see he home town and gave me more of an appreciation of both parents working class humble beginnings.
 Also thank you to Sharon Nunan for providing a few photographs she took of my Mom's home as well as good company for the driving tour and lunch :)