Coal miners

I was born and raised in Springfield, IL. It was a small city for being the state capital. For most of the year it was much like a over sized farm community but when the state legislature came to town things changed. All those big city types from Chicago brought with them a kind of sophistication which allowed us to see the other side of town. I lived in a working class neighborhood where a lot of Italian coal miners lived and worked. These were shaft mines going down over 200 feet and the only light was from the carbide lamps on their helmets. The tunnels were less than five feet high so most of the day the minors were bent over using picks and shovels all the while breathing in the coal dust which later turned into the black lung disease. They worked long hours and when they came up they headed to the local bar to drink and try to regain their sense of being alive. The mothers ran the family and all dad had to do was bring home the bacon. Most of the moms went to six o'clock mass and spend the rest of the day doing the things that moms do. Once in while there would be dad who didn't drink and he was a great father. I remember to brothers who gave up playing ball with the rest of the boys on Saturday because their dad said he would spend the day with them. On Saturday afternoon the dads would congregate at the bar and play bocce ball and if it rained they were inside playing pinochle. These were big strong guys and they threw down the Ace of trump the floor shook. I vividly recall one Saturday night when John L Lewis the head of the coal minors union came to the local bar and gave a rousing speech. Friday nights were set aside for the Gillette fights. The fight I remember most was the night that Rocky Marciano knocked out Jersey Joe Walcott. Rocky, being Italian, was of course cheered on by everyone. It was a time when all the neighbors knew one another and they all watched out for each other.