Breaker Boy

by Joan Hiatt Harlow

  The baby’s name was the subject of a family meeting. Aunt Millie and Babcia were included in the discussion.

  “I thought we named her Albinka,” Dad said, as if it were all settled. “Binky for short.”

  “Albinka?” Aunt Millie said. “We’ve never had an Albinka in the family.”

  Aunt Millie is hoping the baby will be named for her, Corey thought.

  “You chose Albinka and never once asked what my choice might be,” Mom said, standing up. “I am the one who gave birth to this baby girl, so I have earned the right to my opinion. We need a meaningful name—”

  “Meaningful?” Dad interrupted. “She’s a girl. Shouldn’t she have a cute name like Binky?”

  “Yeah, we like Binky!” Jack yelled.

  “We want Binky,” Sammy agreed. “Binky! Binky!”

  Mom ignored the interruption. “This has been a difficult year for our family. Corey had to quit school to work at the breaker; he nearly drowned and suffered with terrors we can’t even imagine. Then there was the cave-in and the anxiety that went with it—not knowing if Dad was dead or alive.

  “But one thing that kept our family strong was hope. Hope is like an anchor that holds us firm during life’s storms. I would like our baby’s first name to be Hope.”

  There was silence as the family thought about Mom’s words.

  But Mom wasn’t finished. Before anyone could speak, she continued, “We have been blessed with a loving new grandma who saved Corey’s life and is helping him overcome his phobia. She believed in him so that he believed in himself—which in turn gave him the strength to go into the uncharted mine to find his father.”

  Mom gestured to Mrs. Chudzik. “And then our babcia safely brought our baby into the world. They are both God’s gift to us. I’d like to name Hope after Babcia as well. Her full name will be Hope Alexandra Adamski.”

  Mom and the boys cheered. Babcia’s eyes shone. Aunt Millie didn’t appear too happy, but she shrugged and nodded.

  Then Dad stood up and made the announcement. “Hope Alexandra Adamski is our daughter’s name.”

  Hovi, who was sleeping at Corey’s feet, thumped his tail in agreement.

  49

  Happy House

  Lots of great things happened that spring.

  Because Dad had such an impressive knowledge of the old mines in the area, he was offered a job as assistant to Mr. Russell. Then, with a better salary, he could spend more time with his family. Corey went back to school.

  Babcia and Mom were best friends, and like best friends, they needed to be in close contact every day. So Babcia had phones installed in both houses. “In case of emergency,” she said. But Corey noticed that Mom checked with Babcia at least three times every day to discuss . . . whatever it was that best friends talk about.

  This morning, Babcia rang Mom to tell her good news. The new hospital committee had asked her to be president and coordinator. They felt Babcia would be an asset to the town because of her medical background and her tireless assistance during the recent cave-in.

  “People wave to Babcia when she drives around town,” Corey noticed. “They don’t run and hide anymore.”

  Hovi was a hero once word got out that he’d found the other exit in the old mine before anyone. A picture of him, sitting by the newly discovered mine opening, was in newspapers all over the state. Everyone in Pennsylvania knew all about Hovi, and the word “hellhound” was no longer in the local vocabulary.

  The old gray mansion with the turrets took on a new look. Babcia had her house painted a pretty shade of rosy tan—the front door was a sunny yellow. Corey, as he had promised, planted bright flowers and shrubs around the building. On the front porch, a large welcome mat now greeted the world.

  Once Corey no longer worked at the mine, his phobia slowly faded away. He wondered if someday it might return, but in the meantime, it had lost most of its power over him.

  The breaker boys’ team won the valley championship, thanks to the Slavic boys, who knocked the ball out of the park several times. Corey did his share with a few good hits, and the team celebrated their victory in the big yard at Mrs. Chudzik’s no-longer-spooky mansion.

  Nothing in the old house was strange or dark anymore, including the ugly knocker on the front door. It was polished to a shiny finish and had stopped scowling at visitors.

  “This old knocker is smiling,” Abby whispered one day—as if the knocker could hear her. “It actually looks quite cheerful.” She looked at Corey with questioning eyes. “Dad says we heard echoes of miners striking at the walls of the Mountain Crest mine because the two mines were so close. What do you think, Corey? Did we really hear the knockers? Or were they just echoes?”

  “Abby, everyone knows there are no echoes in the mines,” Corey reminded her.

  Hovi, who was at Corey’s side, barked and wagged his tail.

  “Hovi believes in the knockers,” Abby said.

  Corey patted the dog’s head. “Hovi has been in on all the secrets around here, right from the start.”

  “So you and I and Hovi know the knockers exist, but no one will ever believe us,” Abby said with a sigh.

  “We know, and that’s all that matters, anyway.” Corey pulled up the handle on the brass knocker. “Shall we?”

  Abby nodded and Corey let it go.

  KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

  Afterword

  Several years ago I lived in a small town near Boston. One day I was told by someone who knew the history of the town that a woman doctor lived there back in the 1800s and was known as “the casket lady.” She was famous for having a massive, carved casket in her parlor. Although I didn’t pay much attention to the story, I must have tucked it away in my memory, because it popped into my brain as I began writing Breaker Boy.

  Recently I told the tale to friends who live in the town. They looked into the town archives and sent me information that verified the story I had heard so long ago. The woman was a doctor who did keep a coffin in her parlor. The casket was described as being of Gothic design and so creepy with its carved creatures that it was perfect for my book!

  I gave a Polish surname, Chudzik, to the Coffin Lady in my book because my story takes place in the anthracite coal region of Northeastern Pennsylvania, where miners and their families of Polish, Welsh, and other nationalities labored and lived.

  You may already know how bituminous and anthracite coal were formed. Over the centuries, as ancient forest vegetation died and dropped into the soil, layers of earth covered it, and after many years the pressure of the heavy layers turned the soil into peat moss, soft (bituminous) coal, or hard (anthracite) coal, where the imprints of the ancient foliage can sometimes be seen. Ancient inhabitants discovered the moss and coal made good fuel, so they used it for cooking, heating, and for manufacturing pottery and weapons.

  During the Industrial Revolution, when the power of steam and electricity was discovered, there was still a need for coal. Bituminous was the most used because of its availability and lower cost. However, it was dirty, and the air in cities like London was unhealthy. The thick dust covered everything, and people became sick.

  Anthracite coal was not as obtainable as bituminous and was more expensive. However, it was preferred because it was hard and burned hotter and cleaner. There were many bituminous mines in the world, but anthracite could be found in fewer areas. In the United States, for example, it is only found in Northeastern Pennsylvania.

  Hardworking miners risked their lives to dig out the “black diamonds.” Dangerous working conditions, roof falls, flooding, and explosions often took their lives. Coal left its sickening marks in the lungs of mine workers with deadly “black lung disease.”

  Mine workers were not paid adequately for the dangers they faced. They worked long hours, digging out tons of coal by hand, until late in the nineteenth century, when the bituminous coal miners formed a union: the United Mine Workers of America. In 1902 members of the union who worked in the anthracite coalfields
went on strike. This was known as the Anthracite Coal Strike.

  This strike caused vicious fights between the union members and the nonstrikers. The hatred between various ethnic groups became deadly. The “coal barons,” or the owners of the mines, were against the strikers. Some miners were killed and others were hung. It was a dark, deadly, and dangerous period of time.

  The National Guard, local police, and detective agencies became involved in the war that was being fought in Pennsylvania. Things became so bad that President Theodore Roosevelt had to intervene. The miners finally prevailed, receiving a 10 percent wage increase and a reduced workday, from ten to nine hours per day.

  Today there is another method of mining called “strip mining,” which mines the coal seams that are close to the surface instead of blasting into the mountain itself. This type of mining leaves huge craters and an ugly landscape as well as causing other environmental issues. The law requires that when mining is finished in these fields, the mine area must be filled and restored to its original condition.

  You can find interesting information about anthracite mining by visiting the Anthracite Heritage Museum in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Or you can visit it online at anthracitemuseum.org. The Anthracite Heritage Museum serves educational needs regarding the story of hard coal mining, its related industries, and the immigrant culture of Northeastern Pennsylvania.

  You may also want to visit the Eckley Miners’ Village Museum in Weatherly, Pennsylvania, which was founded in 1854. Here you can see an actual town with its patch village and company store: eckleyminersvillage.com.

  Mining communities often had a company store that was owned by the mining companies. The mine workers were paid with “scrip”—money that had the inscription of the mine. The workers could only purchase their groceries and goods from the company store. It was not legal tender, so other community stores would not accept the phony money. The miners were trapped into purchasing from their employer’s store, where the prices and the interest were high. Often the purchases exceeded a miner’s pay, so the family would go without until the next payday.

  There have been many folk tales and songs about the company store. The chorus of one popular song, “Sixteen Tons,” was made a hit by Tennessee Ernie Ford back in the 1950s.

  “You load sixteen tons, what do you get?

  Another day older and deeper in debt.

  Saint Peter don’t you call me ’cause I can’t go.

  I owe my soul to the company store.”

  Because “Sixteen Tons” told the history of American mining and became so well known, it is considered an American folk song.

  Corey’s drowning experience left him with a condition known today as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD. We often hear of veterans who suffer this condition after serving in war zones. Back in the days of World War I, an abnormal fear that recalled the horrors of war was called “shell shock.”

  Fear is a normal emotion and is a way to protect oneself when facing a dangerous situation. But when a person has PTSD, an abnormal fear still lingers in the brain, taking over and making a person frightened even when there is no danger or very little danger. Usually the panic associated with the fear is brought on by hidden memories that are awakened, and the patient feels as if the terrifying incidents are happening again.

  Phobias have been around since ancient times. Hippocrates, who lived around 400 BCE, had a patient who would panic at the sound of a flute. Strangely, hearing the sound of a flute at night didn’t bother the man. Where does the word “phobia” come from? The ancient Greeks had a god named Phobos, who was so frightening that soldiers would paint his ugly picture on their shields, hoping to scare away their enemies. A definition of the word “phobia” as we think of it today is “a fear, horror, strong dislike, or aversion; especially an extreme or irrational fear or dread aroused by a particular object or circumstance.”

  Phobias are sometimes treated the way Mrs. Chudzik helped Corey. Facing up to the fear very gradually, under the care of a physician, helps the patient realize that the fear is unfounded, and can often lessen or even remove the problem. Severe phobias and panic attacks are usually treated by a psychiatrist, who may do brain scans and prescribe medication.

  Some of the symptoms of PTSD and phobias are nightmares, flashbacks, upsetting images, distressing thoughts, sweating, rapid heartbeat, and nausea. These symptoms are often triggered by feelings, words, thoughts, or even smells that bring back memories of the original event—just like Corey’s fear of being trapped under the ice.

  In my fictional story, Corey recovers gradually, as he realizes that the danger isn’t always present when he has a panic attack. Once he begins to recognize that the fear is unsupported, it loses much of the power it had over him. However, people with PTSD may need medical help for prolonged periods of time. Yes, a phobia and PTSD can take away the very joy of life. It is a real medical condition.

  Did you know there really is a German breed of dog called “Hovawart”? There are records and stories of Hovawarts that trace the breed as far back as the 1200s, relating their bravery and loyalty. The name reflects their qualities; it means “guardian of the estate.” Hovawarts were almost wiped out by World War I, but they are being brought back by those who love the breed.

  You can see pictures and read about this loyal and hardworking dog on the Internet. Friends of mine own a Hovawart named Django. When I first met Django, he scared me with his deep-throated and rancorous bark. I could easily believe he was the guardian of the estate! Now he greets me with kisses, plus a wagging tail that seems to make a full circle. Django has stolen my heart—and the hearts of our neighbors and friends. I just had to have a Hovawart like Django in the book.

  The stories of knockers have been around for centuries. They originated in the coal countries of Europe and England hundreds of years ago. The small elves were said to warn of roof falls. Other stories blamed the knockers for accidents, cave-ins, and stolen equipment. Some men who wanted to stay on the right side of the knockers would share their lunches with them, leaving cookies or pieces of cake in the mines at the end of their day.

  You may have seen knockers in the Walt Disney movie Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. The seven dwarfs, with their tiny shovels and picks, go off to work in the mine singing, “Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to work we go.” They were not coal miners, however. And I don’t remember them knocking. Instead, those little fellows worked in diamond mines, where they would “dig, dig, dig a-dig dig.”

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks, thanks, and more thanks to the Krane (Kraynanski) family from Wilkes-Barre who grew up in the anthracite coal mine country and who related generations of their family’s stories of coal mining history. The colorful and multiethnic groups, the plight of miners and their wives, the boys who worked at the breaker, the history-making strikes, and the community itself lured me to use this setting for my book. Dziękuję!

  Thanks to John and Bertha Osterhaven from Wilmington, Massachusetts, who researched the town archives and confirmed the strange story of the “casket lady” that I heard many years ago.

  Thank you, Venice Library children’s department, for the fun we had as I tried out the first few chapters of this story on a local Girl Scout troop. This eager audience begged me to finish the book. Since Breaker Boy is somewhat different from my other novels, their enthusiasm was especially encouraging.

  Special cheers go to my bright, creative editor, Ruta Rimas, for her thoughts and encouragement with the development of the manuscript; and to Natascha Morris, her competent and super-helpful assistant.

  As always, my deep appreciation to authors June Fiorelli, Gail Hedrick, and Betty Conard, my loyal writing group from Sarasota, Florida, for kind critique and for cheering me on.

  —J. H. H.

  About the Author

  Joan Hiatt Harlow is the author of several popular historical novels on the Margaret K. McElderry Books list, including Firestorm!, Secret of the Night Ponies, Shadow
s on the Sea, Midnight Rider, Star in the Storm, Joshua’s Song, Thunder from the Sea, and The Watcher. Ms. Harlow is from New England but now lives in Venice, Florida. For more information, visit her at JoanHiattHarlow.com.

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  Also by Joan Hiatt Harlow

  Star in the Storm

  Joshua’s Song

  Shadow on the Sea

  Thunder from the Sea

  Midnight Rider

  Blown Away!

  Secret of the Night Ponies

  Firestorm!

  The Watcher

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2017 by Joan Hiatt Harlow

  Jacket illustration copyright © 2017 by Jim Madsen

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