The first time that I laid eyes on the metal behemoth was at night. No, we weren’t visiting the place at night; we had been driving past it on our way to a local amusement park, which was having Halloween-themed night rides. Even in the dark, however, it was easy to see that the place was huge, as it was silhouetted against the starry night sky.
It wasn’t until late December that we found some time to actually check the place out during the day, when the sunlight helped to show just how massive the structure really was.
The St. Nicholas coal breaker is now dead. Well, it’s not actually deceased, since it’s not a living thing, but at one time it was working full-force, a part of Pennsylvania’s anthracite coal industry that helped the area become known as “the coal region.” In fact, many of us from the area have some kind of ties to the industry somewhere in our ancestry.
For quite a few years, the breaker has been empty. There are no sounds until a gust of wind blows through the structure. There are no ghosts in the place save for whatever memories might still exist from any former workers who might still be alive. There is nothing of monetary value left behind, but the items that are still present tell a tale of daily industry: saws, gloves, welding goggles, boots, lathes, nuts and bolts, newspapers, and boxes upon boxes of daily delivery reports.
I kept one of these daily reports to have as a record that things really did take place here. Guys came to work and then went home seven or eight hours later. Some may have stopped by the local bar for a beer or two to unwind from the day; some may have gone straight home to their wives and children.
I also snapped a few photos of the building, knowing that at some point—possibly soon, since several staircases have been removed and “NO TRESPASSING” signs have gone up over the last few weeks—the St. Nicholas breaker will be no more. When the day comes that the breaker is gone, the memories of the place might go, too.
Hopefully the images will remain.
I also snapped a few photos of the building, knowing that at some point—possibly soon, since several staircases have been removed and “NO TRESPASSING” signs have gone up over the last few weeks—the St. Nicholas breaker will be no more. When the day comes that the breaker is gone, the memories of the place might go, too.
Hopefully the images will remain.
