Trapped

“I'm the innocent bystander
Somehow I got stuck
Between the rock and the hard place
And I'm down on my luck”

         Warren Zevon, “Lawyers, Guns, and Money”

The dozen Thai boys trapped in a cave for two weeks with their assistant Wild Boars soccer coach are finally safe, rescued by a team of divers just ahead of monsoon rains that would have doomed the effort.  The New York Timesreported:

    It took an amalgam of muscle and brainpower from around the world: 10,000 people participated, including 2,000 soldiers, 200 divers and representatives from 100 government agencies. It took plastic cocoons, floating stretchers and a rope line that hoisted the players and coach over outcroppings. The boys had been stranded on a rocky perch more than a mile underground. Extracting them required long stretches underwater, in bone-chilling temperatures, and keeping them submerged for around 40 minutes at a time. The boys were even given anti-anxiety medication to avert panic attacks. “The most important piece of the rescue was good luck,” saidMaj. Gen. Chalongchai Chaiyakham, the deputy commander of the Third Army region, which helped the operation. “So many things could have gone wrong, but somehow we managed to get the boys out.”  

The ordeal in Thailand reminded me of the bizarre saga of Floyd Collins, trapped 55 feet underground in 1925 while exploring Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. The ensuing 18-day rescue effort took on a carnival atmosphere, attracting hordes of reporters and live radio coverage.   Vendors were hawking souvenirs and selling food to thousands of onlookers.  The episode ended in failure when the passage above Collins collapsed.  In Appalachian History Dave Tabler revealed that the explorer’s body became a tourist attraction:

    [It] was put in a glass-topped coffin in Crystal Cave where cavers from around the world paid their respects to Collins for many years. Then in the most dramatic and grotesque twist to the story, his body was stolen—and later found in a nearby field missing a leg. After this incident his body was placed in a chained casket.

    Eventually, the National Park Service absorbed Crystal Cave and closed it to the public. In 1989, Collins was properly buried in Mammoth Cave Baptist Church Cemetery on Flint Ridge. Today Floyd Collins’ final resting place has an extraordinary array of tokens on it — coins, sunflower seeds, stones, and other objects left by cave explorers and others for whom Floyd Collins was, and is, a legendary symbol.

In 2008 a Southern alternative metal band from Edmonton, Kentucky, Black Stone Cherry, recorded “The Ghost of Floyd Collins" with these lyrics:

Down in Mammoth Cave, is where his body laid
Walls came in life could not be saved
No man made machine could see the things he's seen
Mr. Collins, you did not die in vain

Strangers moved in, brought the circus to town
You know, there's people makin' money off a man underground
Somebody said they weren't doin' him right
That's why old Floyd's comin' back tonight

Stopping by the Archives was IU South Bend Folklore professor Anita Kay Westhues, who spoke at the IOHA conference in Jyvaskyla on “Beliefs and Practices Related to Community Water Sources: The Specialness of Springs.” She is interested in a  Gary artesian well located north of Ridge Road near Chase Street.  A few months ago, she accompanied Samuel A. Love on a Steel City Academy student field trip that included the site. I introduced Kay to John Trafny, who had heard of the Chase Street water source, which bubbles up from an aquifer. In January 2016 Post-Tribreporter Michelle Quinn wrote about efforts by Lake County Sheriff’s Department trusties to rid the area of garbage and debris dumped by the road, which has been closed for the past decade.  Quinn interviewed Miller resident Marion Patton, who claimed to have been drinking the water for at least a half-century.  He said: “The old men in the neighborhood told me about it, and I think it helped me.  It’s got a sweet taste to me.  Now, when you first get it, it may have a bit of a foul odor to it, but once it settles for a day, it’s my favorite.”

 

Chase St. Well cleanup; Post-Trib photos by Jim Karczewski

Little Calumet River Basin Commissioner David Castellanos, who helped arrange the cleanup, told Quinn: “I didn't even know it was out there.  It’s not part of the river basin, but a lot of people get water from there, and talked about the minerals from the water as being medicinal or that they couldn't afford to get bottled water. I've seen men out there fill up the back of their pickup truck with gallon jugs of water from there, and one time, I saw an older couple out there getting water. The man carried it up the road back to the car while the woman waited in the car.”

A section on Westhues’ website called “Chase St. Flowing Well, Gary” contains 

 over a dozen comments by longtime residents of Small Farms and other nearby communities. Jerry Baldwin recalled people lined up in the 1950s to obtain the water.  Silas G. Sconiers said, “It was the only source of fresh water we had living in unincorporated Lake County on the outskirts of Gary.” Sconiers no longer drinks from the spring because, in his opinion, dumping at Lake Sandy Jo, a 50-acre landfill, poisoned the water table and it now smells like rotten eggs.  Sharma Crenshaw recalled the liquid tasting great and being ice cold 40 years ago. Sharma added: “We never drank the tap water at home.  My grandmother made the trip every couple days with sterilized milk jugs or other containers.”  Nancy Cohen, who grew up in Gary’s Edison district, recalled often seeing people getting water from that source.

I had a mediocre night at bridge. Typical was a hand where partner Dee opened a Diamond and Dottie Hart overcalled a Spade.  Holding Ace, King, Queen, spot of Spades, four Clubs to the Queen, three small Diamonds, and Jack spot of Hearts, I bid one No-Trump (in retrospect, I probably should have doubled).  After Dee rebid Diamonds, I jumped to 3 No-Trump, figuring we had adequate points for game but might not have enough for 5 Diamonds.  I expected Dottie’s partner to lead a Spade, only he was void in that suit. What he had were 6 Hearts, while Dee only had a singleton in that suit and we lost the first six tricks.  Two couples who ended in 5 Diamonds also got set but only down one, not two like me for -100. Cracker, my favorite band, is kicking off a Thursday evening concert series in Valpo. I told bridge opponent Terry Brendel about it, but he didn’t seem to have heard of their big hits “Low” and “Teen Angst.”

photos of Roger Miramontes by Kris Steele

Kris Steele interviewed Rodrigo (Roger) Miramontes, a 2008 Hammond Clark graduate, and spent a few hours watching him bowl. Beforehand, she discovered that bowling in one form or another has been around for thousands of years.  In America rules began to be codified about a hundred years ago, such as that balls should weigh no more than 16 pounds.  Kris wrote:

    Roger married his high school sweetheart and they have three children. Roger works at Midwestern Steel in Hammond as a fabricator and bowls in two leagues at Olympia Lanes in North Hammond.  He often takes his children with him to teach them how to bowl. He started bowling at age eight, thanks to his uncles. His team name is Four Loco’s, and he carries an average of 190.  Roger bowled his best game last year, a 276. Roger uses a few different balls, but his favorite is a 14-pounder called the Hammer. He bowls with a right-handed hook that moves down the lane very quickly. 

Croatia defeated England, 2-1, and will face France in the World Cup final.  Down a goal at halftime, the underdog Croatians went ahead during extra time when Mario Mandzukic scored the game winner. AP reporter Donald Blum wrote: “Football will not be coming home to England, and there will be no title to match the 1966 triumph at Wembley Stadium. Harry Kane & Co. will deal with the same disappointment that felled Shearer and Platt, Gazza and Wazza, Beckham and Gerrard.”  Great Britain’s best player a half-century ago, George Best, who played for Manchester United for 11 years beginning in 1963, competed for Northern Ireland in international competition rather than England.  Thirty years later, David Beckham had an equally acclaimed 11-year career with Manchester United but an undistinguished World Cup career.  In a New Yorker article entitled “Goal-Oriented,” Leo Robson wrote that during the Middle Ages English monarchs had sought unsuccessfully to ban games because they often led to violence between villages.  

In Richard Russo’s “Bridge of Sighs” Lou Lynch ruminates on writing his autobiography, despite having lived an outwardly undistinguished life: “I’ve written far more than I expected to, having underestimated the tug of the past, the intoxication of memory, the attraction of explaining myself to, well, myself.”

 photo by Chris Daly

Johnny Hickman; photo by Lorraine Shearer

Cracker fans Lorraine, Jinbo, Marianne, Missy

Performing at Valpo’s Central Park amphitheater, Cracker was in great form and played an awesome 90-minute set, beginning with “King of Bakersfield.”  Performing with David Lowery and Johnny Hickman were a keyboardist and fiddle player in addition to a drummer and bass guitarist. I ran into Cracker fans Lorraine Shearer and Marianne and Missy Brush right away and positioned my chair next to where they’d deposited their cooler.  For “Low,” “Teen Angst,” and “Euro-Trash Girl”  I joined them at the front of the stage.  Guitar player Johnny Hickman was beyond charismatic and often looked our way and winked.  Marianne was wearing an ETG t-shirt, standing for “Euro-Trash Girl,” and Missy was dancing uninhibitedly during virtually every number.  After the show band members found time to say hey before heading off to a gig at the Hard Rock Café in Pittsburgh.

Marianne: "Our new friend Brian, Cracker bass player"

Dave Serynek sat next to me and another former student, Chris Daly, said hello and remembered Ron Cohen.  When I told Chris I’d seen Cracker about ten times (including at Hobart Jaycee Fest, Valpo’s Popcorn Festival, and  two Cracker Campouts in California), he replied, “You were always into music.”  After I asked him how he spelled his last name, I remembered that he’d written an article published in my “Latinos in the Calumet Region” Shavings (volume 13, 1987).  Titled “Learn from Grandma,” it contained this information:

  Rose, a waitress at John’s Pizzeria in Griffith, was born in the Region.  Her father was born near Mexico City and her mother is from El Paso.  Rose is married and has three children.  “I plan on teaching them Spanish and on bringing them up in a strong family background,”she said.  “What else they pick up, they’ll have to learn from grandma.”

Chris took a selfie of us and sent it to Jeff Walsdorf, asking, “Recognize this dude?  He went walking behind me at the Cracker concert and I caught him out of the corner of my eye.  Went and chased him down.  He told me he’d just been with Dr. Cohen [finalizing plans for a third edition of ‘Gary: A Pictorial History’].”Walsdorf replied: “I was just thinking about Dr. Cohen the other day.”

Our neighbor, semi-retired Roman Catholic priest Father George, has been saying Sunday mass at  Holy Angels Cathedral, whose origins date to 1906, the year of Gary’s birth. The first parishioners were mainly Irish, Italian, German, and Eastern European, while the present congregation is primary African American and Puerto Rican.  The present Gothic Revival house of worship was built during the late 1940s.  George told me he’s been reading up the city’s church history in “Gary’s First Hundred Years.”  

Night Drive

“The mist across the window hides the lines

But nothing hides the color of the lights that shine.”

         “Steppin’ Out [into the night]” Joe Jackson

drawing by William Buckley

Poet William Buckley suffers from vertigo on humid days and showed up at the Archives bandaged from a recent fall that had landed him in the ER.  Driving to IUN, Buckley avoids highways.  His plan is to be in California within two years, but he loves Lake Michigan and the blue-collar Region zeitgeist, so, meanwhile, he’s content.  He brought several poems with him including “night-drive”:

Billy Lee feels tight he feels nervy,

grass and gun on the front seat

of his truck. “Driving round with yer

gun is no way out,” sez his Brenda.

Billy extends the mad anger

in his boot to the pedal.  Brenda

sez, “Let’s walk by the lake.”  But

Billy needs his tight freedom,

“Gotta go,” he sez and Brenda sez

“Take me too.”  Billy sez “gunna blow

a big hole in the X.”

“You a bad-ass,” Brenda sez, “you be

bad-ass.”  Billy drove straight ahead,

Brenda’s feet on the dashboard.

He’d been a scrubber and a welder. 

There it was, USX,  “Put a hole

through that X, right in the middle!

Owe it a parting shot for my exchange

rate!”  Brenda slid her legs

to the back of his knees, braced her

arms across his shoulders until they

both held the gun.  Then they shot it.

They jumped into the truck and threw gears.

Brenda saw flame in Lee’s eye.

He rubbed his stomach.

“The X of ’im,” Brenda sez, as winds gush through truck.

In 1986 U.S. Steel reorganized its various components as USX Corporation; hence the “X” in Buckley’s poem as a symbol of steelworker rage.  The 1986-1987 USX lockout lasted six months and was the longest in the history of Gary Works. The company’s intransigence – refusing a union offer, for example, to continue under terms of the previous contract until a settlement could be reached - infuriated veteran workers.  Unlike in Japan, management felt no allegiance to its workforce.  Quite the opposite – in its eyes they were adversaries.  In fact, once the USWA (United Steelworkers of America) agreed to wage concessions and the elimination of 1,300 jobs, just three days after ratification of the new contract arrogant USX honchos closed four additional plants with the resulting loss of 3,500 more positions. 

 photo by Bill Carey

Another mill work stoppage looms.  Reporting on a recent rally near the Gary City Hall statue of corporate founder Elbert H. Gary, Bill Carey wrote tongue-in-cheek:

  After marching to the Broadway gate of U.S. Steel’s Gary Works, 2000 steelworkers rallied with speeches of solidarity at Gateway Park. As the crowd dispersed, Elbert Gary U.S. Steel’s first president who famously said that the corporation prefers not to deal with their workers’ union when he brought in troops to break a strike in 1919, looks on nervously. Although Judge Gary oversaw the construction of the Gary Works in 1906, he never actually saw the inside of a blast furnace until after he died.

I try not to drive at night unless on familiar routes.  Headlights from the opposite direction bother me, so I’m actually better off on divided highways such as 80/90 than on two-lane roads.  Even though my preference was to stay in the Wednesday night Sheet and Tin bowling league, perhaps moving to Thursday afternoon will be safer for me getting home afterwards.  Prior to the onset of poor night vision, my favorite drive at dusk was along Route 12, with tree branches leaning over the road like ghost tentacles.

In Judd Apatow’s “Sick in the Head,” a compilation of interviews with fellow comedians, Jerry Seinfeld revealed that hard work and constant editing are key components to his creating funny bits – as a dogged editor, I can appreciate the sentiment.  Apatow’s parents went through an ugly divorce while he was a teenager, and his dad’s favorite expression was, “Nobody said life was fair.”  Chris Rock expressed amazement about a scene in “Louie” where Melissa Leo gives Louis C.K. oral sex and then says, “Now you’re going to eat my pussy.”  “That blew my mind,” Chris Rock said, “like the first time I heard NWA.”  A hot current movie is the NWA biopic “Straight Outta Compton.”  Chris Rock’s anecdote reminds me of a scene in “Georgia Rule” (2007) where Lindsay Lohan flashes a shy guy while they’re in a rowboat and then tells him he has to reciprocate.  He shows her his private parts, leading to a bj.  The poor sucker is so shook up he thinks he has to marry her.

On the Chesterton post office wall was a framed likeness if the new Elvis stamp, which went on sale on the 38th anniversary of the legend’s death.  According to Phil Arnold’s blog, a 1993 Elvis stamp sold over 500 million copies; many were never used but instead saved as collectibles.

Becca and James shined in a sparkling musical review directed by former East Chicago Central teacher Leon Kendrick.  It took place in a former Carnegie library that had been closed for years and recently rehabbed as a community center.  Both grandchildren danced the Charleston.  James was in a doo wop group.  Becca sang “I Don’t Know How To Love Him” from “Jesus Christ Superstar.”

Monday’s lead front-page Post-Trib story was about IUN professor Eve Bottando’s “selfie class,” titled Mass Communication and Culture.  Bottando told reporter Michelle Quinn: “We have this generation of digital natives, as it were, and with it has come this long-term fallacy of what a generation is.  So we can move past [this fallacy] or we can harness it strategically and see how things become accepted.”  Like with video games, critics of the trend have attributed all sorts of negative consequences, ranging from narcissism to psychopathy, citing as an extreme example a Russian woman whose selfie recorded her suicidal lea[p from a cliff.  “Moral panic,” Bottando argued, is a barrier to understanding a cultural phenomenon involving mass communication.  She added: “Aristotle was a proponent of, ‘Why not learn about the world and then make your arguments?’ Leave cultural assumptions out of the reports.” IUN Fine Arts professor Jennifer Greenburg told Quinn that sometimes puritanical parents teach their children “to be embarrassed to be self-involved, but the act of picture-taking is really like a diary, even though we don’t think of our likeness that way.”

Born in Munster on August 6, 1993, Alyssa Minton wrote about her upbringing and boyfriend CJ in a summer journal:

          Introduction: As a child, I was always jumping off walls.  One way I expended my energy was through gymnastics and then cheerleading for Pop Warner football, at Wilbur Wright Middle School, and at Munster High School.  At the end of my freshman year, after tryouts for the next cheer season, I assumed I would make the junior varsity team but I actually made varsity.  When I put my letterman jacket for the first time, it was a beautiful moment of pride and joy. The summer after I graduated, my home life spiraled out of control.  As I moved to Bloomington for my freshman year, my parents finally announced they were getting a divorce. It hit me hard, but I knew it was coming.                   

      Alyssa Minton at h.s. graduation and with CJ

June 1: My boyfriend CJ and I have been together for almost a year. We both went to Munster, but he was two years ahead of me.  I ran into him at the local bar Danny Z’s. We have been inseparable ever since.  He is a union roofer for Korellis Roofing and also attends Purdue Calumet, seeking a degree in construction management.  Last summer his crew was assigned a three-month project at Notre Dame. The company provided living arrangements on campus, and I’d stay there with him. I was amazed how hard CJ worked.  He’d bring heavy bundles of shingles up a ladder and place them on the roof. Seeing him in his harness with all his tools made me realize what a man he truly was. I love when he explains the roofing process to me or points out jobs he has done all around Northwest Indiana.  CJ and I are both very independent and don’t feel the need to be texting every second of the day. In my first high school relationship, I was insanely clingy and insecure, but I am the complete opposite with CJ. This may sound cheesy but I am extremely proud to be his girlfriend. He sets a good example for how to respect others and maturely handle stressful situations. I have never felt more confident than when with him.

  June 2: For two months I have been employed at Sheffield’s Sports Bar in Dyer as a cocktail server.  I love the atmosphere when the Blackhawks are playing.  Saturday when the Hawks beat the Ducks, everyone was celebrating. People were hugging friends and random strangers.  Most people get nicer when alcohol enters their system, but occasionally we’ll run into mean drunks. CJ isn’t supportive of me working in a bar because I do get hit on.  He accuses me of flirting back.  I tell him every day how important he is to me, so he needs to deal with it. Sheffield’s is dependent on regulars for their business, so I often see the same people every day and understand the boundary between friendliness and flirtation.

  June 4: I am majoring in Psychology and understand that a good paying job will require more school.  I am up for the challenge but fear that after all my schooling, I won’t get a job in my field.  It doesn’t help when I tell people my future plans and they give a look like “Honey, you aren’t going to go far with a Psychology degree.”  Not being able to picture where I am going to be in four years terrifies me. My sister Katy landed a full-time nursing position as soon as she graduated from Valparaiso University. If I don’t find a job in my field, I will feel like a complete failure. Sometimes when I tell people that I want to help those suffering from mental illness, they’ll react like it’s a fault of the individual.  I understand what it is like to deal with depression, not knowing where to turn, and want to make it easier for young teens to seek help.

  June 22: My best friend Joanna came home for the weekend from Bloomington. CJ, Joanna, and I went to CJ’s friend Tyler’s estate in Culver, Indiana. The main house has three levels with an elevator stopping at each floor, kitchens on the first and second floor, and the master bedroom on the third floor. We stayed in the guesthouse, which was equally as beautiful. CJ took Joanna and me jet skiing, and we tipped over twice.  Tyler is the son of Pete Korellis of Korellis Roofing.  I had met Tyler’s parents at the Korellis Christmas party back in December. His mom, Susan, is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met.  I always ignored the phrase “money can’t buy happiness,” but Susan is so genuinely happy, maybe it’s because they do not have stressful financial worries.

Pete Korellis

June 23: CJ has been working for Korellis Roofing since high school and will soon be promoted to foreman. During the summer of 2012, after a threatened wage cut, members of the United Union of Roofers, Local 26, went on strike.  They picketed outside the Korellis Roofing shop in Hammond, as well as Gluth Brothers Roofing.  Some strikers went negative and slashed Pete Korellis’ tires, called in death threats, and put feces on his doorstep in Munster.  CJ was on strike for seven months, before the two parties reached a compromise settlement.

  June 24: My mom grew up in Whiting with five younger siblings. Her dad, a steelworker, was an alcoholic who died when she was 17. My mom started working in downtown Chicago once she turned 18 and met my father, who also worked downtown, on the train. My mom was the backbone of the family. She’d take me to and from practice three times a week, make my meals, do my laundry, and so on. She is the most caring and loving person I know. It broke my heart seeing how my dad completely ignoring her when she tried so hard to please him. She’d buy her own Christmas presents, wrap them, and say they were from my father, all so my sister and I wouldn’t catch on. There was a noticeable weight lifted off my mom’s shoulder after the divorce. I once asked her why she stayed with my dad for so long. She said she wanted to give my sister and me a good life, so she put hers on hold.

  June 27: During my senior year at Munster I became really close with Paige.  At her house one day I saw a little Chihuahua in the laundry room and fell in love with her.  Emmy was the absolute sweetest dog I have ever met. She couldn’t bark; she would try, but no noise would come out. It was like she was always on mute. When Paige went on vacation and I dog sat, which eventually turned into me keeping her for good at a very unstable time in my life. Emmy could nuzzle my neck, and I’d instantly feel better, happier than I ever thought I could be. Sadly, in April, she passed away. Heartbroken I cried for three weeks. She will always be in my heart; I wish I could hold her one last time.  My mom found an animal rescue place in Crown Point that had a female Chihuahua puppy for us.   I named her Daisy.  I honestly feel like Emmy is reincarnated into Daisy, they have so many similarities.  When I got her, she didn’t even weigh three pounds, but she has so much energy, she cannot sit still for more than five minutes. CJ has an American Bulldog named Jaxson, whom Daisy just adores.  CJ is as obsessed with Daisy as I am. He cuddles with her at night instead of me. I don’t mind because they are adorable together. My mom says Daisy and I are both under CJ’s love spell.

Leaving IUN, I found a flyer between my car window and the windshield wiper titled, “Qualified Workers Denied Jobs.”  It was an invitation to join a rally next Monday “to demand [as promised] local hiring on $45 million dollar IUN-IVY Tech Arts and Sciences Building.”

CDs on heavy rotation after watching the Cubs win fifth straight on a Kris Bryant walk-off HR: Joe Jackson, Romantics, War on Drugs, Spin Doctors, and Robert Blaszkiewicz’s “Best of 2014” to hear New Pornographers and Wilco.

Steve Spicer photographed a truck unable to get through an overpass on Grand Boulevard in Miller.  How could he have missed the warning sign – maybe it happened at night.

From a certain angle the 37-foot William Penn statue atop Philadelphia’s City Hall appears obscene, as if the founder of Pennsylvania colony was about to take a piss.  Sculptor Alexander Milne Caulder meant for him to be holding a copy of the treaty he signed with Native Americans, not his penis.