Minooka: the Story of My Hill

By Michael Bracey

This is a history/reflection book on a small town in Pennsylvania. The town is full of character and characters-- all real.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 17, 2004
• ISBN: 9781462837762

Michael Bracey

Michael Bracey was born in Scranton (Minooka) Pennsylvania. He had a degree in English from the University of Scranton and is a member of the Friends of the Scranton Public Library and the Lackawanna County Historical Society. This is his first book.

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Minooka:

The Story of My Hill

Michael Bracey

Copyright © 2004 by Michael Bracey.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval syste`m, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

23702

Contents

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1

HISTORY OF WAY BACK WHEN

CHAPTER 2

THE BELLS OF ST. JOE’S

CHAPTER 3

SCHOOL DAYS SCHOOL DAZE

CHAPTER 4

MARCHING OFF TO WAR

CHAPTER 5

SURVIVAL

CHAPTER 6

MINOOKA’S SPORTS HEROES

CHAPTER 7

STEALING A LITTLE BIT OF ONE’S SOUL

CHAPTER 8

HOW MUCH FOR A WAILER?

CHAPTER 9

THE BACKBONE OF AMERICA

CHAPTER 10

THERE’S SOMETHING BURNING SOMEWHERE

CHAPTER 11

NICKNAMES

CHAPTER 12

THE TOWN MOURNS

CHAPTER 13

CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

CHAPTER 14

STRANGE BEDFELLOWS INDEED

CHAPTER 15

IT’S IN THE HEART

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

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Minooka Lion’s Club outing for the kids at the playground 1980’s

INTRODUCTION

This is the story of my family, my friends, my people, and my town. The tale of Minooka, as told to me by the townsfolk, full of laughter, tears, memories, and a heavy dose of revisionist history. This book however, is not a complete chronicle of Minooka. The words written on these pages represent the past, present, and future as well as my own thoughts and reflections on a place I love so well.

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The approximately five square miles considered the confines of the town are not just a series of streets, houses, yards and stores. They are full of character and characters, both old and young, living and dead. Their actions, imperfections, deeds, and sayings live on forever in barroom chatter. Here, the craft of storytelling is not a lost art. If you know where to look, and who to ask, especially the old timers, you’ll find someone who’ll prattle on about colorful days of long ago—the high school, church, baseball, the bars, wars, politics. Name the subject, any subject, and someone will not only voice their opinion, but may title himself or herself a self-proclaiming expert on it.

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Sharkey Lydon telling one of his engaging

tales 1972

Growing up in this unique town, Minooka was my world. Anything beyond Pittston Avenue was the great unknown, the great abyss. I sought never to venture out. Everything I needed for a fulfilling life I found in my little corner of the world. I ran these streets at night, through yards playing without fear, just as my mom did, and just as the neighborhood kids do today. We were all so young, so many things still unknown and we all wanted to be going someplace; we all wanted to experience life.

I felt safe inside the borders of Minooka, perhaps mistakenly so. Safe because most of my neighbors acted at times as surrogate parents to me, watching out for me and scolding me when necessary. They got involved. This village did indeed help raise many children.

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Minooka’s children poised for their future

I didn’t cover everything about Minooka. I am certain it could fill volumes, but I hope I did an adequate job depicting the flavor of this town. I wanted to do this little project for a long time. I’d start then stop. I’d get lazy and put if off for awhile. I got busy with this thing called life. The book took a back seat to other priorities. It is now completed, for better or worse. My goal of writing this book is achieved, and now that it is done it feels wonderful. Even if no one likes it, it is one of my best accomplishments, and no one can take that from me.

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Minooka High School Class Reunion taken in 1981 coincidently the same day they tore down the

school building

CHAPTER 1

HISTORY OF WAY BACK WHEN

Not long ago the roads were dirt, toilets were in backyards, and many of our grandfathers swung pick axes, chipping off coal in dank, dark tunnels far underground. Our grandmothers raised broods of children, and did laundry by hand using a washboard, bucket and soap. A hard and humbling life indeed. Today, this mound of hilly anthracite, in the southern section of Scranton, Pennsylvania, has done quite well for itself with a plethora of self made men and women, comfortable houses, honest jobs, paved roads and dependable Subaru’s. My Nana Kearney might say the town was putting on airs.

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Bud O’Donnell cruising the streets of

Minooka in his truck 1940’s

Bernie Kearney, my mom, was born and reared in Minooka in the 1930’s and 40’s. She grew up poor, as did most of her playmates