Verhovayak Lapja, 1944 (27. évfolyam, 1-52. szám)
1944 / Verhovay Journal
I June 29, 1944 Verhovay Journal Page 3 Tiie Ferrei HHI ■■»■■■»■awiiiiiiiMWM'iwM • '■iiiiiTiiiir !agw^g,. Pittsburgh, Penna. Pittsburgh again! It’s like a bright oasis, after a long trip into the wilderness! One thing I have learned in my few travels—that there is no place like home; but those short snatches of variety add sparkle and zest to an otherwise dull life. However, when a fella away from home becomes homesick after the first week, it’s a sure sign that “Home is where the heart is”—too darn bad we can’t see that soon enuf! But enough of this petty philosophizing—on to the rest of the story. Found the Home Office force in good health—still plenty of pep left in the gang. Several of the offices have reverted to the building operators—i. e. our Supreme President had to move into smaller quarters to make room for new tenants. Also the Board of Directors room has been handed over to new tenants. With the remodeling of our new building still in embryonic stages, much compromising has to be done until the entire force is together again in the new Home Office. Still, they are a swell bunch of folks, so perhaps they can get along without too many misunderstandings. Decided to let the serious angle of this second „ quarterly audit go until next issue, when I will have had time to feel the comforts of home about me again. The story I’d like to picture in words, deals exclusively with sights and scenes as they appeal ed to me. Promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t write about Pittsburgh and environs until I learned to love it a bit. Promised myself, too, that I’d look around and give the Smoky City an opportunity to prove itself—that is, to prove itself for something more than it’s SMOG and dirt and unfriendliness. It’s not a bad city, as large cities go. Down where I live at the Keystone Hotel, one gets nothing but the dirt and SMOG— the friendliness of the people is something which has to be cultivated here, just as one has to cultivate anything worth having. June is not such a good month to work—it’s much too hot, and the humidity is thicker than it is back in good old Detroit. T would be a good idea to work in shorts and bobby socks, but then where would DIGNITY go! However, after five, there are street cars and busses to take one up into those beautiful hills which have become so dear to me. I remember the first time we went out to McKeesport to visi with Branch 395—recall vividly how the “high altitudes” choked' off our breath, made our nose and ears plug up—can again feel that panic of bewildering fear Now I can zip up those hills and never note the difference in height. Once out of the downtown district, one experiences a feeling of being re-born ... the air is clean, and cool, and invigorating. Even though the thermometer is at 90 or so, the heat doesn’t touch in the hills. Went out to a place called Glen-Hazel Heights, in Hazelwood. The story of how this place came to be goes something like this... Down around the Carnegie Steel Mills, which is located on the Monongahela River, homes were razed to make room for the expansion of the steel mills, due to war requirehomes had to be moved ... some enterprising soul conceived the idea of a building project up in the hills .. some 100 houses were erected; there are 99 now—one house collapsed; eight single homes in a building... all neatly compact, with two bedrooms and a self-contained gas heater, stove etc. included. They are built in a series of terraces; some are up higher in the hills, some are built in a section which was originally a ravine, but the ravines were filled in ... you ought to see the large pieces of coal on the surface of the ground .. . made my heart ache to see the folks around there gripe because the coal ruined their flower gardens, and here we pay upwards of ten dollars per ton.. .there are- playgrounds for the kids; a co-operative store which was the delight of my efficiency-loving soul... practically anything from soup to nuts can be purchased in this Co-op Store; the tenants in the project buy shares in the store and reap profits at the end of the year... there is an administrative building where community affairs are held ... from the top of the largest hill in this project one gets as beautiful a panoramic view as it is possible to imagine; Homestead in the distance, and Whittaker and Munhall... The High-Level Bridge is higher than the roofs of the Carnegie Steel Mills ... as the story goes, all that section was under water during flood times, so the High-Level Bridge was built so that traffic from that section could still go ón. Well you can imagine how high up we were, when the busses and street cars appeared to be the size of my Larry’s toys ... Trains looked like tiny worms out in the immeasurable distance ... Houses were miniature in size, people were mere specks. . . and the green trees, and warm sunshine pouring over it all! Even the smoke from Carnegie was part of the picture ... up there in the Heights everything was far away from trouble and worries.. . maybe it was a good thing those old houses around the steel mills were torn down and the folks given the wonderful opportunity of living so close to, well, Heaven, is the only word I can think of ... Victory gardens on the sides of the hills were geometric patterns .. . they have to plant their rows horizontally to counteract the vertical angle . .. and the cool breezes ... golly, if I ever have to live in Pittsburgh, it’s the Heights for me! Read a story by Mary Roberts Rineheart, called the “Case of Jenny Brice” ... scene was laid in the North Side of Pittsburgh, which was originally called Allegheny ... decided one warm night to visit the “scene of the crime”, with two gals whose hearts were as adventurous as mine. Started out across the Sixth Street Bridge—these gals hadn’t ever been over on the North Side, so we were three explorers, seeking new sights. Found out it was quite slummy where the “crime” occurred in the book ... Union Street and Federal Street was in the book, the house, “42 Union Street”, has been torn down to make room for the Pennsylvania Railroad Over Pass. However, we found the park, smelled the awful smells coming from some of the old rooming houses. Just like in the book, could almost imagine the flood in this section; and we finally By Mrs. Jolán Lucasi ^§fr M . i -äk. mk ments. Folks who lived in those came back to the foot of the Ninth Street Bridge. Here is where the body of the female was found after the flood waters had receded... We were quite amazed at how high the flood waters must have reached in the good old days before certain measures were taken... Found out too, that the reason Mrs. Rineheart was so familiar with these scenes is because she lives in Sewickly, up near Bellevue, in the hills ... that is where the “500” (or is it “400?) live... Went down to the Point, and crossed Five Points Bridge... would like to get high enough up sometime to see how the Three Rivers meet; which in reality are only two rivers- joining to form the third. They have a thingamubob here called the Incline. It’s a trolley-like affair which climbs Mt. Washington at a 60 degree angle, and takes passengers to the top of the hill. From here one can view the entire city of down-town Pittsburgh, but it takes more courage than I’ve got to go up the Incline —only costs a nickel in money, but costs more than that to me. Perhaps some day I’ll do the next best thing and walk up the highway which begins at the Liberty Tubes. Speaking of the Liberty Tubes —well, they’ve got something there. Two tubes bored through Mt. Washington, about a mile and two-tenths in length. Two rows of traffic to go and two rows of traffic to return. All white tile, and scary to newcomers. Remember the first time I went through... thought the darn hill would cave in on me . especially when going through in a bus; the roar of the bus motors is multiplied ten-fold until you think your ear-drums will burst... now it’s the natural thing to do; if you want to go out to some of the suburbs, you have to go through the tubes as it’s a short-cut. And bridges ... ye gods, bridges every other block. Of course none of them can compare to our beautiful, majestic Ambassador Bridge to Canada; but a bridge is still fascinating.- Water traffic isn’t anything like on the Detroit River or the Great Lakes ... low-slung barges are towed or pushed by little river boats with large paddle wheels at their stern ... the barges usually carry coal... met a gal in the train on the way home who raved about her beautiful Ohio, and all the kids having canoes and paddling out to the river-barges . .. they’d make friends with the barge operators and get a ride up river and then they’d paddle their little canoes back home. Told this gal that I thought those rivers around the Pittsburgh area were very sluggish and muddy, not at all as alive and vibrant as our 7-mile current Detroit River.,, but she says not to be fooled by the Ohio; it’s a very tricky river with lots of under-tows and whirlpools ... told \ me how they have built series of dams to try to check the floods down around Pittsburgh ... Could rave on and on, but will save some for next time. The trip home had its adventurous moments. Your Ferret is the kind of person who learns from every sock in the puss, or from every little hurts ,or every new experience. Out of Pittsburgh, and one, kept urging him to take on to Coraopolis and Beaver and points west. Even the shanties on the sides of the hills have an advantage over the low-flying flat lands around this area. They look down from their heights and sneer at the dirt and smoke below. Steel mills to the east and west of us, and north and south ... all the way to McKeesport, and Duquesne; on to Youngstown. Even if the section were noted for anything else, steel will always be the main commodity. Soon the hills begin dwindling down to mere bumps of earth and finally become nothing more than pimples. The beautiful flat country of the middle west again takes first place... Somehow smells different even ... sky is clearer, sun is stronger . .. One meets some interesting specimens on trains ... there is the young couple going to Cleveland for a last spree before he goes to the army; they had a 7 month old youngster at home ... the funny looking old man, who was all crippled up for some reason or other; he had a .specially made bike with three wheels; this efficient looking young lady, who was reading a book on tuberculosis nursing and bronchoscopy and other stuff, told me that that old boy has been self-supporting for years; the little baby who was always crying and mama’s harsh voice urging the youngster that “Little Charlotte is going to see Grandma” ... wished Mama would shut up; the baby’s voice was easier to take... a bit of comedy; in Youngstown an old colored man got on and his wife, or somecare of himself and be sure to take the right bus; she came on the train three times to see that he was all right; ye gods, sure hope that chap had a good time; hg needed it after that continual nagging ... then that Lucas chap I met; sure was a good looking PFC; had a wife and two children back in Detroit. .. only thing, this Lucas was Russian, imagine that! ... Finally pulled in at Cleveland; too late to go visit any Verhovay buddies, but maybe next time. The excitement of the boat trip home! When fishing on the Detroit River, one wishes to make a trip on the D & C Liner to Cleveland, so finally the opportunity is thrown in one’s lap ... silly to postpone the homecoming for 10 more hours, but the boat trip is worth it! About 4 A. M., thrown from a sound sleep onto the floor of one’s cabin ... Grab a coat, and rush out on deck ... Shucks, nothing but a bit of mild, rough weather ... Start back to my stateroom and a steward happening along takes enough time out from his duties to tell stories about Lake Erie’s sudden squalls and rough weather... Home, sweet Home at last... Luke and kids in tiptop shape welcome back the Mistress of the Home ... Pittsburgh and Auditing Committees and train trips and boat rides and people and things recede to the back of the mind ... Home never looked so good before... a day or two of rest... and then publicity to write, monthly report to make, and dues to collect... clothes to wash ... well, so long, until next issue. FOURTH OF JULY For the Independence of 1776, the 4th of July, Our ancestors dared to fight and to die. That we may have liberty! Grim sacrifices were made; For justice with their lives they paid, So that we, created equal, may be free! The same spirit of that memorable 4tli of July, The enemy today is striving to defy. But they cannot, will not succeed! 4s our ancestors fought for the right, So do our men today risk their all to fight, Until all enslaved nations be freed! MARGARET C. BARA, , Member of Branch 66. New Castle, Pa. MY PLEDGE By Stephen Vincent Benet (Pulitzer Prize Winner) I pledge myself as an American to work for victory. I do so voluntarily, in faith and loyalty because I believe in my country. I believe in its freedom and its greatness, in the liberties I share with all Americans, in the way of life we, the people, have made with our own laws and with our own hands. I mean to preserve those liberties and that way of life, with my own hands, here and now. I mean to securp them for the future by investing to the full in War Bonds and Stamps. The task I am called upon to do may be small or large—I mean to see that it gets done. It may mean hard work and sacrifice—I mean to see that it gets done. As an American citizen, I take my place beside the armed forces of the nation, to do my utmost for the country I love—to maintain its cause against all enemies and every danger. And to this task I pledge my whole strength and my whole heart.
