Paradise Lost

Big Muskie' dragline bucket 08-24-2014When Curator Jessica and I headed up to Kent, Ohio, in 2014, she insisted on a side trip to see Big Muskie’s bucket at the Miners’ Memorial Park. Click on the photo to make it large enough to see her IN the bucket.

John Prine’s Paradise

The youngster had never heard John Prine singing Paradise, an ode to a town hauled away by Mr. Peabody’s coal train and bought out by the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA).

Now, she wanted me to carry her off to Paradise. The first OH-MO-OH trip was plagued by fog, drizzle and downpour, so we had to bail. The weather was OK on this one, but we were pushing darkness pretty hard, particularly since we were looking for something that wasn’t there.

We found the TVA

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016The first clue that we might be close to the right place was when we spotted the mammoth cooling towers of the TVA’s Paradise Fossil Plant. An interesting website postulates that Mr. Peabody’s coal trains might have hauled Paradise away, but it was the power plant that was the nail in the coffin:

“The Paradise Fossil Plants were built and started raining ash and debris down upon the remaining citizens of Paradise. Concern arose for the health of the remaining residents of Paradise. Obviously having ash created during the factory process and pouring from the air like warm, toxic snow was not a positive influence for ones respiratory system. Most likely, to prevent an onslaught of environmental and residential poisoning lawsuits, the Tennessee Valley Authority stepped forward. TVA representatives convinced the remaining townsfolk to vacate and paid them minuscule amounts to abandon their once happy lives in Paradise.”

Power plant went online in 1963

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016The TVA website said Units 1 and 2 went online in 1963. They were the largest operating units in the world at the time. A third powered up in 1985. The two older units will be idled by the end of 2017, replaced by a $1 billion gas-fired plant under construction in the distance.

The hunt for the cemetery

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016One website we read said a cemetery was about all that was left of the original community. We poked around the power plant, wondering how long it would be before somebody from Homeland Security showed up to ask these flatland furiners with Florida tags why they were creeping around, occasionally taking photos. We took off down a promising road that kept getting progressively smaller and bumpier.

After passing a washtub-sized snapping turtle, a deer and a pair of amorous squirrels, I spotted a guy in his carport with a couple of kids around him. When I turned into his lane, my curator partner said, “This one is yours.”

I allowed as how Kentucky coal miners would probably be as friendly as Appalachian coal miners, but I mentally adjusted my dialect, taking a little Yankee out of my SE Ohio twang, and dialing some North Carolina into my Swampeast Missouri drawl. The gentleman couldn’t tell me exactly where we needed to go, but he gave us some hints, peppered with local landmarks of the “third dead skunk” variety.

You gotta be kidding

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016We headed back past the snapping turtle, past the power plant and back toward huge mounds of coal and the railroad cars that hauled it. Right about here, my navigator said, “Turn left.”

I did, taking us up a vertical gravel road that deadended at the top of a hill with a radio tower on it. While trying to figure out how to turn around, Navigator said, “That looks like a road going down the hill.”

I might have been able to go DOWN that hill, but there was no way we’d ever be able to drive back up it. Sometimes you have to disregard your navigator because I could hear Johnny Cash singing about what was going to happen if we went down that road that was Dark as a Dungeon:

And pray when I’m dead and the ages shall roll
That my body would blacken and turn into coal
Then I’ll look from the door of my heavenly home and pity the miner digging my bones

The McDougall Family

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016We headed back toward the power plant and found the road that led past the McDougall / Paradise Cemetery

The McDougalls, I assume of the family for which the cemetery was named, had plots surrounded by an intricate metal fence. They weren’t on the highest part of the burying grounds, nor were they in the mowed section, but the fence made up for it.

A grammatical error

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016John McDougall, born in Scotland in 1821, and who died in Muhlenberg county 60 years later, has been sleeping under a stone with a typo. Above the digit pointing to heaven, is the inscription, “THEIR IS REST.”

Eudoxia Smith Robertson

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016A significant number of the stones had birth and death dates in the 1800s. Eudoxia Smith, for example, was born in 1815, and married Alney McLean Robertson in 1837. She died two years later, after giving birth to two children.

Kneeknockers

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016The thigh-high grass hid lots of shin and knee-high gravestones. I found this one particularly attractive, probably because I saw it before I felt it.

Miz Jessica and I were pleasantly surprised to find ourselves chigger-free the next morning. I was afraid we’d pick up a bunch of ticks and itchy things wading through the high grass.

Peabody Wildlife Management Area

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016After you have, as John Prine sings, “come with the world’s largest shovel, tortured the timber and stripped all the land,” what do you do? Well, it appears that you smooth some of the bumps, plant some grass and call it the Peabody Wildlife Management Area.

Here’s a reason I’m cranky about strip mining.

Still a lot of scarring

Weir Cemetery in Google EarthIn fairness, on our hunt for the Weir Cemetery, we managed to see two herds of deer in about two minutes, so there IS wildlife. A Google Earth view of the area still shows an awful lot of scarring left behind.

After a couple false starts, we finally found our second cemetery.

Weir Cemetery

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016The Weir cemetery was well-maintained. It had a small parking lot nearby and there was evidence of recent landscaping. The FindAGrave website said the cemetery is known as both the Doug Weir and the Vanlandingham Cemetery. We saw some stones with that name on them.

That flag is one of the reasons I tweaked the Ohio Yankee out of my accent. This IS Kentucky.

Markers decorated with shells

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016This row of stones were interesting because the markers had small shells embedded in the concrete. I had to assume they were mussel shells from the nearby Green River (where Prine said “the air smelled like snakes”).

Starting to get dark

Paradise KY area 05-22-2016This little excursion had been fun, but the sun was sinking faster than I liked, and we still had another 170 miles to go to get to Cape.

It was time to put Paradise behind us.

 

 

 

 

Miners’ Memorial Park

Big Muskie' dragline bucket 08-24-2014Giving Curator Jessica access to my RoadsideAmerica ap just as we were embarking on a road trip to northern Ohio was dangerous. In addition to our normal stops for stuff like interesting buildings, historical markers, cemeteries and just stuff, she announced that we just HAD to make a side trip to McConnelsville, Ohio, to see Big Muskie’s bucket at the Miners’ Memorial Park.

I agreed to the diversion only if she would agree to be photographed with it to give the huge bucket some scale.

In service for 22 years

Big Muskie' dragline bucket 08-24-2014The plaque at the memorial made is sound like the big, bad EPA was responsible for shutting down open mining and causing workers to lose their jobs. It sort of glossed over the fact that the 1977  Clean Air Act reduced demand for soft coal and that the power costs made it unprofitable to operate. The 22-story-tall Big Muskie, with its 310-foot boom and 220-cubic yard bucket sucked down as much power as 27,500 homes and cost tens of thousands of dollars an hour for electricity alone.

The public’s growing opposition to strip mining added to the decision to scrap the world’s largest single-bucket digging machine ever made. It was parked in 1991 and scrapped in 1999 when no company wanted it because of the cost of dismantling, transporting and operating it.

John Prine’s Paradise

Earth Day 1969I had to introduce Jessica to John Prine’s song, Paradise, which contains these words:

Then the coal company came with the world’s largest shovel
And they tortured the timber and stripped all the land.
Well, they dug for their coal till the land was forsaken,
Then they wrote it all down as the progress of man

And, Daddy, won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County
Down by the green river where paradise lay?”
“Well, I’m sorry my son, but you’re too late in asking.
Mister Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away”

Links to Big Muskie Stats

Bucket photo gallery

Click on any photo to make it larger, then use your arrow keys to move through the gallery. Oh, by the way, the only thing that kept me from having to endure a visit to the Feline Historical Museum was that it was closed on the days we were in the area.

The Cafe Was Closin’…

Athens  Dairy QueenI’m in Athens, Ohio, working on a couple of projects with Curator Jessica and getting ready to head up to Columbus Sunday to pick up Friend Anne, so the two of them can Road Warriorette back to Florida with me.

I hit town and promptly came down with a killer sore throat. I managed to make it through a 2-hour video interview, but by the next day my voice was reduced to a croak and my head felt like there was a basketball inside trying to get outside. I alternated between being completely stopped up and having to carry a bucket to capture the drips.

Saturday afternoon was spent wandering around a huge rural cemetery looking for a grave that would “tell the rest of the story” of one I did in 1970. The man and his wife weren’t were they were supposed to be, so I guess I’ll have to try again later.

A greasy burger called my name

Union Street Diner 05-10-2014I took a two-hour nap and woke up feeling both better and ravenous. Somewhere in Athens, Ohio, I knew there was a greasy hamburger calling my name. There was: I ended up at the Union Street Diner, and it was all I had hoped for.

On the way back to the motel, I stopped to shoot night photos of a number of small businesses, some of which had been in business when I worked here.

Only a few cars were left in the Dairy Queen parking lot, and the waitress was stacking chairs getting ready to clean up the day’s messes. I decided it was worth a U-turn.

While shooting this, John Prine’s song, Far From Me started playing in my head.

As the cafe was closing on a warm summer night
And Cathy was cleaning the spoons
The radio played the hit parade
And I hummed along with the tune

She asked me to change the station
Said, the song just drove her insane
But it weren’t just the music playing
It was me she was trying to blame

And the sky is black and still now
Up on the hill where the angels sing
Ain’t it funny how an old broken bottle
Looks just like a diamond ring
But it’s far, far from me

Y0u can read all the lyrics here, or listen to John sing it here. You can click on the images to make them larger.

What Are You Doing Saturday?

canoe1I hardly ever answer the phone at home because the call is never for me. If Wife Lila IS away, when I DO answer it, it’s usually “Jennifer” who wants to talk to me about my credit card, “but there’s no problem with it.” If it’s not Jennifer, its a voice that wants to warn me that the FBI reports there is a break-in every X minutes. THAT’S why I don’t answer the phone.

So, Wife Lila picks up the phone Friday afternoon, then says, “It’s for you.”

Son Adam is on the horn: “What are you doing Saturday morning.”

I have to perform brain surgery

Flummoxed, I couldn’t come up with something like, “I have to perform brain surgery first thing in the morning” or “It’s my weekend to go door-to-door distributing rutabagas.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re retired. You’re not doing anything. How would you like to go on a canoe ride”

John Prine has a line in his song, Far From Me, , “Well, a question ain’t really a question, if you know the answer too.” It’s right up there with “How would you like to take out the garbage?”

My job: steer around stumps and gators

I guess I’m going on a canoe ride down the Loxahatchee River Saturday morning. Grandson Graham will be in the middle; Adam will be in the bow. The only good thing is that I am going to be in the stern, ostensibly steering with my Boy Scout-learned J-Stroke. That means I can dope off so long as we don’t run into any stumps or alligators.

The picture above was probably the last time I was in a canoe on that river. Son Matt, in the bow, looks like he’s about 10ish. That would put Adam a little older than Graham.

If you don’t see a post Sunday morning, you’ll know the reason why. Send the search team out to look for an alligator with a bulge in his belly and a big smile.