Wallace - One Good Punch

Contents

For Sandra

SECTION A

NEWS and OPINION

Coal-Mine Fires Continue to Smolder

PEOPLE KEEP DYING, so my phone never stops ringing. Ive made notes in the computer for fourteen obituaries tonight, and I havent written up a single one. Most Ive ever done in a shift is fifteen, and its only 9:23, so theres plenty more to come.

Scranton Observer.Yeah, we got time. He was a high school valedictorian, and then he worked in the mines?Which Legion post?In Jessup?Mercy Hospital; family by his side. Okay. Talk to you later.

Ive been doing this job for five months now, and this is the busiest night Ive ever had. Officially, Im an editorial assistant, which used to be called a copy boy and generally means gofer.

Im a backup phone-answerer for the news department, but mostly I talk to the funeral directors and get information for the next days obituariesthe dead persons name, age, where they were born, where they lived, surviving relatives, employment history, etc. Also the stuff that makes these things interestingtheir hobbies, organizations they belonged to, their World War IIera nicknames (already today Ive had Babe, Pops, Hammer, and Dingle). Then I write it up into readable paragraphs for the morning paper, doing it as fast as I can.

Scranton Observer.c-z-y-k?Okay, so after a dignified and courageous struggle.Life member of VFW Post 4921. Wheres that again?Lone Pine Hunting Club. Whered he work?Yeah, call me back with the survivors. No problem.

Im on a first-name basis with all of the local funeral directors, who call us in the evenings to get their latest clients featured in the paper. I work Friday, Saturday, and Monday nights, which sucks when youre a high school seniorI miss all the partiesbut its undeniably good experience for what I want to do with my life. These were the only shifts available.

Scranton Observer.Yes, Mr. Powell, this is Mike. I havent written it yet, but Ive got my notes right here. Scranton Eagles Memorial Classic at South Side Lanes, 1946. You say he rolled a 282, not 280. Fixed it. Anything else?Ive got his brothers Fred in Minooka and Johnny in Dunmore, and a sister Kitty in Green Ridge. And predeceased by a brother Buddy in 1997.

Yeah, of course we can mention the dogs. Lucy and E-t-h-e-l. They both Labs?Sweet. They gotta be missing him. They let dogs go to funerals, dont they?Oh yeah, Im running like eight miles a day. I jump on a treadmill at the Y when its icy, but its been dry lately. We start working out for real on Wednesday. Cant wait. Thanks. Come see a race if you get a chance.

There are a lot of very old people around this city. Well, obviously there are fewer all the time. But you learn a lot about their lives taking down the information for their final appearance in the newspaper.

You can get a real history lesson reading the obit section every dayall the factories and mills that shut down way before I was born; the huge number of different churches and organizations people belong to (just in the last ten minutes, for example: the Ancient Order of Hibernians, the Polish Womens Alliance, the Red Hat Society, the Olyphant Billiards Association).

Good peoplelots of war veterans, lots of faithful parishioners, lots of beloved grandparents. They die at home or in the hospital or a senior center, of old age or cancer or who knows what. The worst cases are when a kid dies in a car accident. Nobody I know yet, but I had to write one a few months ago when two guys from that football team went over the railing on Route 81 in a pickup truck.

You read the obits and you learn about the citys history. But they also get you worrying about its future.

Scranton Observer.Dont call me here, Joey. Because Im working.What kind of emergency?Look in your backpack. I gotta go. Because the phones ring constantly. People die around here every fifteen seconds. Old people mostly. I gotta go, man. The other phone is ringing. Get lost.

Scranton Observer.Thats me. Sure. One second. Okayspell that last name. Lifelong resident?So well say that he lived briefly in Carbondale before returning to Scranton in 1953. Know when here tired?Okay. Can you hold on a second?

Scranton Observer.Hi, Mr. Rasmussen. No problem. Can I call you right back?Okay.

Thanks for holding. I think I knew this guy. Did he umpire Little League games in East Scranton?Right. Right, the gold teeth. Great guy. You can call me back with that. The Friday night deadline is eleven, but we got time. You know where he served?So youre going to want the American flag symbol with this one?You bringing in a photo?No problem. Call me back. We got plenty of time.

Its no wonder the citys population drops with every census. Were still burying former coal miners and textile workersremnants of long-gone industries. One night last weekboth within twenty minutesI wrote obits for two ladies that were over a hundred years old. Both had lived their entire lives in Scranton.

Who replaces them? Probably not me.

Im out of here in a few months, off to college and then who knows where? If this city had more to offer, Id probably come back, but as things stand, I cant see it.

Scranton started dying years agofading into urban blight. Not collapsing, just losing its gleam. Most of the textile factories closed way back, and although coal-mine fires still smolder under parts of the city, none of the wealth and employment of that industry remain either.

I sometimes picture myself at age thirty, unemployed, sitting on the porch of my parents house in the evening, drinking a can of beer. It isnt a difficult leap to makea third of the houses in our neighborhood have someone like that hanging around.

Weve had a line of mayors who promised downtown renewalvisions of trendy lofts and premium office space and upscale restaurants and shops. But mostly I run past neighborhood bars like Martys and the Limerick and all the tire places and used-furniture stores and pawnshops and the unadvertised businessestheres prostitution and underage clubs and fronts for other stuff. We know where to buy drugs if we wanted to. Thats no secret from anybody.

Scranton Observer.This is Mike. Scranton lost. Dunmore won. Prep won. I dont know; this is obits. Hold on, Ill switch you over to sports.

Scranton Observer.God, Joey. Its probably in your locker. That stuff better not be in my locker. Midnight if Im lucky. Stop calling me here.

Scranton Observer.Sure thing. From this afternoon? Let me find it. The Elks, the Kiwanis, and the Polka Lights?Oh. L-i-t-e-s. Yeah, I can still get it in. Well say a long illness. Umm, did he actually die there?I gotta check with an editor; I dont know if we can get away with that. Could just leave it out. I can write around it. Hold on a second.

Scranton Observer.Not from this phone. Hold on.

Anybody order a pizza? I yell.

Hello? Doesnt look like it. We dont have anybody named Charlie. Somebodys jerking you around. No problem.

Mr. Morrison?Sorry. How about after a lengthy battle with an addiction? Nah. That sounds terrible. We could just put something at the end like Donations to alcoholism research appreciated. Theyll figure it out. They found him in the mens room?Yeah, its a shame. Oh yeaha courageous struggle with personal demons. Theyd be writing my obit tomorrow. Talk to you later.