Читать книгу A Basket of Gems - Robert J and Jean V. Stock - Страница 5

“Red and White Bus Line, Tickets Purchased Inside” is scrawled on the window of the drugstore in the small “railroad” town of Cresson, PA. Although Cresson is a “railroad” town, most of the populace who desire to visit local towns, ride the bus, because of the few number of “locals” on the Pennsylvania Railroad; the fact is even railroaders must ride the bus, unless lucky enough to “catch” one of the two trains which stop at Cresson daily, or fortunate enough to own a car. At least three-fourths of the Cresson male population work for the railroad.

A bus leaves Cresson every hour on the hour. At 10:00am a railroader, dressed in the blue overalls, wearing a blue and white stripped cap, boards the bus for Altoona. He undoubtedly works in Cresson and lives in Altoona. and he undoubtedly will pass a man on another bus coming in the opposite direction, who lives in Cresson and works in Altoona. He shows his railroad I.D. card to the driver, waddles past two or three empty seats, and asks a plainly dressed housewife sitting in a double seat, “Is this seat taken?” Smiling, she quips, “I saved it for you”. Chuckling, he says “Thank you!” and plops down in the seat. After getting comfortably seated, he says, “I usually don’t ride the bus to Altoona – I take the train. Can you tell me the route it takes?”

The woman takes a deep breath and begins; “We go on the William Penn Highway and over the mountain to Duncansville. We’ll arrive there at 10:15. From there we go to Lohsburg, past the A&P, Matts Barbershop, Johnny’s Beer Parlor, and should arrive at Liken’s Drugstore at 10:22, if we are on time; most of the time this bus is late though. Then we follow the Wopsononook Avenue through Lohsburg – I’d hate to live on that avenue; How does anyone learn to spell it? We stay on Wopsononook until we come to Mae Gardener’s Vegetable Stand, then turn left there and hit 115^th, street which takes us right into the bus stop. I’d know the route better, if I rode the bus more often”.

“Where do you live?”

“I live in Cresson. I have lived in Cresson all my life. My name’s Maria Laskowsky, my maiden name was Janco. You probably know my dad, Jim Janco. He, at one time, worked for the railroad.

“The name sounds familiar, but I don’t think I’ve ever met him. My name is Henry Grull. I’m the foreman on a signal gang. What does your husband do now?”

“Oh, he’s a mechanic; you know, works with the motors and stuff. He’s a darn good man, a good provider for our four kids and me. The way prices are going up though, it’s almost impossible to get ahead.”

“Yea, my wife sent me to the Economy Store the other evening to get a couple pounds of meat; it cost me $3.90 for meat that looked like the scraps I used to get for my dog for nothing at the same store 10 years ago. Things certainly are high. I guess the farmer is the only one who will have anything to eat in another year or so. I spent the first twenty years of my life on a farm, and wish I’d never left. My wife was a city gal though, and there was no getting her on a farm.”

“No, I guess she wouldn’t even know how to milk a cow. My family moved off the farm when I was six years old. I wish Pete, (that’s my husband), owned about 10 acres. I wouldn’t want a big farm; it would cost too much for hired help. Why I remember when my cousin Harry worked on old Mike Longacre’s farm for $1.50 a day – I believe even for a dollar, when he first started. Things will never be what they used to be before the war.”

‘Were any of your family in the war?”

“I had three brothers in the army. Joe was a Buck Sergeant and he landed in Normandy on D-Day, or a little while after. All that fighting and the only time he got hurt was playing basketball in Camp Gruber, Oklahoma. I don’t remember anymore - he either broke his ankle or sprained it. Anyway, I remember him writing home and wondering how the squad, or whatever he led, could get along without him. My other two brothers are twins and went into the Combat Engineers together - you know the army tries to keep twins together. Well, they were on their way to Europe when the war ended over there and they weren’t there for more than a couple of months, when they were shipped to the Pacific. When they got to Pearl Harbor, the Pacific war ended; I told them they should be thankful they weren’t there when the war started. One of my old boy friends was killed at Pearl Harbor; well, he wasn’t exactly an old boyfriend. We used to hang out in the same crowd. His name was Angelo Rusinko: he was a swell guy. He lived in Gallitzin.”

“Do you know the Rusinko’s that live on Penn Ave.?”

“I’ve heard of them, but I don’t know many people who live across the tracks. You know that’s a separate borough over there, and they keep to themselves and we keep to ourselves; of course, since they don’t have a post-office, they get their mail through ours. Most of the people who live over there are sorta common. And most of them have more kids than they can provide for. Do you have a family?”

“I have two daughters, but they’re grown up. My baby is 26 and married a man (name of Jake Lance), while he was in the service. When he got out, he went to work as a machinist in the Altoona Shops, but he was sorta restless and didn’t think he was making enough money, so he re-enlisted. He was at Fort Braggs, North Carolina or one of those Camps for awhile, and then they shipped him overseas to England. Well, Mary, that’s my daughter, saved her money and bought a new trunk and everything and was going to join him in England. The day she was supposed to leave, she got word he had been shipped to Germany; so she doesn’t know whether she’ll be able to go to Germany, or not. I was kinda relieved she didn’t go to England because the ship was supposed to land at Plymouth and her husband was in Liverpool. So I don’t know what the fare would have been from Plymouth to Liverpool, maybe she wouldn’t have had enough money. There she’d have been with a thirteen month old baby in a foreign country and no one to look after her. Maybe it’s a good thing Jake did re-enlist, the way they were laying men off at the car shop. I know a man who has years of service there and was laid off last week. A fellow just isn’t sure of his job these days. It certainly does look as if we’re going to have another depression: but you don’t remember the last depression do you?”

“I sure do. I was just a kid at the time, about ten years old. My dad was out of a job and there were 13 mouths to feed besides my father and mother. We had the biggest family in town, besides Mike Reddo’s – there were 18 in that family. I don’t know how they managed to live. I know we lived on rhubarb, blackberries and homemade bread when mom had money to get flour, which wasn’t very often. I still remember once my mom made biscuits and because of the lack of the proper ingredients, they got a little hard. Well, my sister, Cora, who is a nurse, was home visiting and she said she’s a nurse and knows a person can’t eat biscuits like those and live; however, we’re all still living, and all healthy. My youngest brother, Joe, was always so thin till he was about 16 years old; everyone used to say that the depression hit him. He grew like a weed then – now he’s 6 feet tall and weighs 185 lbs, the best fullback Cresson High School ever had. He’s the one who became a sergeant in the Army – the one I was telling you about. Now he’s going to Penn State under the G.I. Bill. He’s majoring in Phys. Ed and plays fullback on the football team. – a smart kid. Did any of your family go to college?”

“No, I don’t believe in sending girls to college. They just graduate and get married anyway, and never use anything they learn in college, so why wast the money and time. I only went through eight grades, and I’ve learned ten times as much since I’ve been out of school then I did in the whole eight grades. I had to quit at the time, but I never regretted it since, like I said, I’ve learned more out of school then I ever did in school. Take my sister, Cora. Cresson High School wasn’t good enough for her; she had to go to Altoona Catholic High, and then she went to Nursing School., She still says ‘ain’t’ when everyone knows it’s aren’t. Not that she isn’t a good nurse, but you’d sure think they’d learn how to talk. I’ve more or less picked up good English from listening to other people talk. I think a person learns more by listening than by doing all the talking herself.”

“You’re certainly different than the women I know. The other night I wanted to go to the movies and when it was about time to go, Millie Burns came over “for a little chat” as she put it. Well, my wife and her just discussed everything from their girlhoods to the present economic situation - nothing of which meant anything. By the time they finished, I was snoring in a chair in the living room, having read three old “Readers Digests” and two Mercury’s. and even a Ladies Home Journal for lack of something to do. About 8:30 my wife came in off the front porch, and calmly remarked she was too tired to go to the movies and besides Millie had seen the show the night before and it isn’t any good. A couple times, while they were talking, I thought of going myself, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with my wife for the next couple of weeks if I did, so I changed my mind. What a boring ...

“Oh, here’s where I get off.” exclaimed the house-wife as she pulled the cord which activated the buzzer, letting the bus driver know someone wanted off. “I’m very glad I met you.”

“Same here.”

The railroader stepped out into the isle and the housewife squeezed by him, strutted up the aisle, and reached the door just as the bus stopped at the corner and the door swung open. The young woman stepped down on the sidewalk of the busy shopping district of Altoona and was soon lost in the crowd.

While on the bus, the railroader had already moved to another seat beside a middle-aged graying woman. “Could you tell me what time we get to the bus station?” he inquired.