The next day, we stayed in the same general area and went to the ‘Choo Choo Barn’, which displays collections of model trains and paraphernalia. We followed that by going to the Railroad Museum, where we saw a variety of real trains, with the oldest have been built in 1875. There was a combination of both passenger and freight trains, with a variety of steam, diesel and electric engines. The boys were able to explore a caboose and a steam locomotive that were on exhibit, see a working turntable (which were used to turn train engines to go in the opposite direction on the tracks) and observe displays dedicated to those who worked on the railroads. The boys were both amazed and shocked to discover these workers included many young boys. It seems that a lot of young males ended up working on the railroad, performing a variety of tasks.
“You mean kids like us were forced to work back then?” Ricky asked, totally blown away.
“Yes, sometimes their parents would make them, so they could help support the family,” I told him, “or they had to, because they were on their own and had to take care of themselves.”
“But some of them look younger than us!” Jay observed.
“Yes, and that’s why Congress finally enacted child-labor laws,” I followed. “Children as young as five often did jobs that adults were too large to do or performed tasks to free the adults to do more substantial work.”
“Damn!” Danny exclaimed. “Were any of these jobs dangerous?”
“Yes, like working in the mines or working around textile looms,” I informed him.
“So kids could get hurt at these jobs?” Brandon wondered.
“Yes, and sometimes they even died on the job.” That was more than enough for the boys to stomach and made them grateful the situation had improved for them.
“I guess we don’t have it so tough then, do we?” Brandon observed, after realizing how much tougher life was, even for young people, at various points in history.
After lunch, we drove to Ashland to the Pioneer Tunnel Coal Mine for a tour. This was a thirty-five minute tour into a horizontal tunnel, which runs 1800 feet into the side of Mahanoy Mountain, and gave us a chance to see how anthracite coal was mined. Anthracite coal was the fuel of the future during most of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and was used not only to heat homes, but to power major manufacturing operations, such as the production of iron. Operation in this mine ceased in 1931 and part of the tunnel is timber supported, but a great deal of it was just a large hole drilled and blasted out of solid rock. Since I had been underground and in confined areas before, I had a fair idea of what it was going to be like in there, so I had the boys slip on jeans and a sweatshirt over their summer wear, after we arrived. The boys thought I was nuts to have them do this, but it was a good thing I did, because the average temperature in the mine is fifty-two degrees. I’m sure they wouldn’t have enjoyed this visit nearly as much if they hadn’t dressed as warmly and felt chilled.
“Did kids work in places like this too?” Jay asked, thinking back about what we had seen earlier.
“Yes, and even worse place,” I responded, which caused him, and some of the others, to just shake their heads in disbelief.
We rode into the mineshaft on mine cars, which had been rebuilt to carry passengers and were pulled by an electric mine-motor. It was kind of a neat experience, and although the cars were of a different variety than what we’d seen in the movies, it did remind us of the Indian Jones movie where he was riding in the runaway mine car. I’m not sure if thinking about that was what caused Ricky’s initial reaction, but as we started to pull into the shaft, he became tense, started panting and clung to me, like burdock stuck to a bear’s fur.
My first reaction was to assure him that we were safe and the car would not race wildly down the shaft, but that didn’t seem to help him at all. That’s when I began to realize this wasn’t based on a fear of something he’d seen, but to something he had experienced. It was similar to the reaction Brandon had exhibited, when we crossed over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. Where as Brandon had been suffering from acrophobia, Ricky seemed to be having a claustrophobic reaction, meaning he had a fear of being in enclosed, confined spaces.
This confused me a bit, as I had never witnessed him having problems in elevators or other small places we’d been in, so this seemed to be specifically triggered by this place, although I didn’t understand why. I held on to him tightly, pinning him against my side, in an attempt to make him feel safe. Unfortunately, my efforts didn’t seem to have much of a positive effect. However, as we moved out of the timber-lined portion of the tunnel, he seemed to get better and began to relax slightly. I wasn’t sure what had caused this change, but I was more than happy to accept it. I’d have to explore this with him later, to see what might have triggered it, once we were alone.
After we disembarked from the mine cars, we followed our miner-guide, who explained various deep-mining methods. After we completed this part of the tour, we finished the day by taking a ride on a Lokie, which is a colloquial term for a small locomotive. The Henry Clay is the name of the narrow-gauge steam engine, built in the 1920’s to haul coal cars, which it did for many years. Today, it is assigned to pull passenger mine cars on a scenic three-quarter mile tour around the mountain, to see another type of coal mining, called strip mining. This is where a steam shovel is used to rip out tons of coal from an exposed vein, so a locomotive like the Henry Clay could pull it to market.
We also saw a “bootleg” coalhole, which was an illegal hole dug into coal veins by locals. It was usually a hasty shaft that wasn’t very well supported, so the people who entered actually braved cave-ins just to get a few bags of coal to sell or to use to heat their homes.
“Man, how poor do you have to be to do something like that?” Brandon wanted to know.
“I’d say pretty desperate,” I responded, although I wasn’t sure if his question had been rhetorical or if I answered it to his satisfaction, if it wasn’t.
During the ride, we were also able to see smoke rising from the Centralia mine fire, which is a perpetual underground mine fire, which over the years has resisted all attempts to extinguish it. Over time, it has also forced the relocation of many of the local residents. It is expected to continue burning until it consumes all of the combustible material available and burns itself out.
Overall, this had been an interesting and informative day. With the possible exception of Ricky’s panic attack, I think we all enjoyed it. We decided to stop for dinner along the way and before heading back to our motel room, where we would spend our last night before heading home.
The boys were a little subdued in the room this evening, and it wasn’t hard to figure out something was wrong. I wasn’t sure if it had something to do with what happened to Ricky earlier, so I thought I’d start a little dialogue with the boys, to determine what was going on. “Okay, fellas, what’s up?”
They looked at each other before Brandon spoke up. “Nothing’s wrong, we’re just a little bummed out that our vacation is almost over and we’re going back home. We’ve had so much fun and we’ve liked being with each other so much that it’s going to be hard when we aren’t together with each other all the time any more. Plus it means school’s going to be starting again soon.”
“You’re right. There are going to be some adjustments you will need to make, once you get back with your families, but I think we’ll all be able to cope with it. Yes, I agree you boys will be spending less time together, you’ll have to get ready to return to school and you’ll have to deal with the end of your summer vacation, but that doesn’t mean you’ll have to give up the closeness you’ve developed with each other. We might be able to work it so you’ll be able to spend time together after school. Not every night, but a couple times a week, as long as you keep your grades up. You’ll also be able to get together on the weekends, so it won’t be totally bad. You boys should know you are always welcome to stay at our house, or Ricky and Danny will be allowed to come to one of your houses, but one way or another we’ll find a way for you all to still remain close throughout the school year. If things work out, maybe we can take another vacation together next summer.”
“That would be awesome,” Ricky squealed, pleased by my suggestion.
“Do you really mean that?” Jay asked, wondering if this was only a ploy to get them to perk up. “You’d do this again for us?”
“Yes, I would,” I informed him. “I’ve enjoyed this too and wouldn’t mind doing something like this again next summer.”
I suddenly began to hear a chorus of ‘thank you, Dad’ or ‘thank you, Pop,” and then felt several arms wrapped around me. I guess my little pep talk worked, because everyone began to perk up after that and the rest of the evening went pretty much as usual. Before we went to sleep, we packed up all the things we wouldn’t need in the morning, so we’d be ready to load all our belongings into the van at daybreak. After that was completed, I had the boys take their showers
While everyone else was cleaning up, I asked Ricky to take a walk with me, so we could discuss what happened earlier in the day. He was reluctant and the other boys were curious as to what was going on, but we finally left the room and began to walk aimlessly down the sidewalk. “Ricky, I’m a little concerned about what happened at the mine this morning,” I began, and he gave me a very panicked look. I wasn’t sure why he was reacting this way, but I hoped I’d soon find out.
“Uh… uh,” he stammered, not getting much out.
“Ricky, I just want to know what the problem is, so I can help you, if there’s anything wrong,” I explained, to ease his concerns. I was afraid he thought I might judge him because of what happened or start to treat him differently, and I certainly didn’t want that to happen. “Hey, whatever it is,” I continued, “it’s something we’ll try to work out together. Okay?” He appeared to relax slightly.
“Well, uh… kind of,” he finally admitted.
“Would you mind telling me about it?” I asked, hoping he would start giving me some answers.
“Do I have to?” he whined, letting me know there were still some things he wasn’t ready to share. Even though I felt this was important, I didn’t want to push and have him withdraw into a shell either.
“Rick, I won’t force you to tell me, but I think this is important and might do you some good to share it,” I explained. “If I know what’s troubling you, then maybe we can do something about it, so it doesn’t keep happening to you.” He soon became lost in his thoughts, as he contemplated what I had just said. Although I wondered what was going on in his mind, I’d just have to wait and see if he was going to share this with me.
“What could you do about it?” he wondered aloud.
“Well, if it’s not something I can deal with,” I answered, “then I will find someone who can help you with it.”
“Like who?” Ricky asked, simply.
“A professional who deals with these sorts of things,” I advised him, hoping that would soothe his doubts.
“But I just don’t like to talk about it,” he finally responded. “I don’t even like to think about it.”
“I know it’s probably going to be very hard to share this,” I told him, trying to be as sympathetic as I could, “but it might also help you to put this behind you, so you won’t have to deal with it again.”
“Okay,” he finally relented, “but I’d rather not do this.”
“I understand, but this will just be between you and me,” I confirmed, “unless you agree to allow me tell anyone else. Is that all right with you?” Ricky nodded his head, but only half-heartedly.
“My mom used to lock me in this small place in our house when I was bad or she was having some guy over and didn’t want to be bothered,” he informed me. Hearing this caused my heart to suddenly sink into my stomach. How could a parent do that to their child?
“What kind of a place was this,” I asked, for clarification.
“Just a place in the wall where the roof slanted down and mom sometimes stored things,” he replied. “It was when I was about four or five and we lived in an apartment on the third floor.”
“You mean it was a crawl space in the wall?” I questioned him, not believing my ears.
“I guess so,” he confirmed, although I wasn’t sure he truly understood what I was saying. I was nearly certain I was right in my assumption and things began to make more sense.
“I was really scared when I had to stay in there,” he continued. “It was kind of dark and the only light in there was what would come through the cracks around the small door.”
My heart was aching for him. Now, I was positive I had been correct in my assumption and things began to fall into place. That crawl space would have had been lined by numerous two-by-fours, which were supporting the ceiling and walls, and seeing the beams supporting the tunnel probably reminded Ricky of this fact, as his teenage brain interpreted the information stored there as a four or five year-old’s memories.
“Ricky, I believe that our ride into that tunnel reminded you of those times and caused you to have a panic attack,” I informed him. “If you want, I’ll set up an appointment for you to talk to a professional about this.”
“I don’t really want to do that,” he responded, almost too quickly.
“I know it will be hard to have to tell another person about this,” I conceded, “but I think it will best if you do this.”
“Dad, do I have to?” he complained. “I think I’ll be okay now, seeing I know why that happened to me,” he added.
“I still think you should do this,” I stated, more firmly.
“If it happens again, then I will,” he offered as a compromise, “but I feel better already, just from telling you.” I decided to let it drop for now and would bring it up again later, especially if anything else like this were to happen again.
When we went back to the room, Ricky took his shower and then we went to bed. It was my turn to sleep with the mighty midgets and both Ricky and Jay clung to me like condemned men clinging to life, before their execution. I would be willing to bet that was because Ricky was still dealing with what happened earlier and Jay was sad about our time together coming to an end, especially now that he was calling me Pop and we had become so close. I have to admit that I’ve grown as attached to Brandon and Jay, as they have to me, and I don’t intend to let that closeness deteriorate.
It didn’t take me long to fall contentedly asleep, especially between the two cherubs with horns, who were nestled so tightly against me. I had an arm wrapped around each of them, and they had their heads on my upper chest, with their arms draped across my upper torso.
In the morning, we stowed everything into the van, went out to breakfast, and then began the long, lonely trip back home. Up until lunchtime, Jay and Ricky shared the front seat beside me, although I made them strap the seat belt over both of them. Danny and Brandon spent their time in the back of the van, alone, but I don’t think that was a problem. From time-to-time I would glance at them in the rear-view mirror and they were either clinging to each other or seemed to be discussing something important. I could tell by their actions that this was also very secretive. I didn’t disturb them or ask what it was about, but it did spark my curiosity.
The only stop we made was for lunch and later that afternoon, we neared our hometown. All four boys had been in the back since we finished our noon meal and Danny addressed me when we had just about reached the city limits.
“Dad, Brandon and Jay want to go to our house for a while first, and then go to their homes after dinner. Would that be all right?”
“I suppose it would be okay,” I informed them, “since I didn’t give their parents a definite time for our return, but may I ask why?”
“We just want to spend a little more time together before they have to leave,” Danny explained. I assumed this to be innocent enough, so I agreed. I drove to our place and the boys helped me carry everything inside, but we left Jay and Brandon’s luggage in the van. Jay helped Ricky take his things up to his room, while Brandon helped Danny carry his belongings upstairs. I carried my own things to my bedroom, but then Danny and Brandon suddenly showed up behind me, acting a little nervous.
“I take it you have something more to discuss,” I addressed them, trying to break the ice.
“Yes,” Brandon answered, “we have something we need to ask you. We, Danny and me, want to let you know that we love you and feel real close to you, but we want to get even closer.” Brandon paused, so I prodded him a little.
“Thank you. That means a lot to me and I love you, too, but I haven’t heard a question yet.”
“What Brandon is trying to say,” Danny continued, “is that we both want to do things with you too.” Danny paused, so I just stood looking at him, and then Brandon. I wasn’t prepared for this. “We want to know if you would have sex with us, so we can show you just how much we both love you?”
I took some time to absorb what they had just asked me and quickly mulled over the implications of their request. “I appreciate the thought, but you don’t have to have sex with me, just to show me that you love me. I know you do, because you both show it in almost everything you say and do. That’s obvious, and I love all four of you boys and the closeness we’ve shared, and that’s more than enough for me. There is absolutely no reason that you should think you have to do more to try to prove it.”
“Is it that you don’t like the idea of having sex with another guy?” Brandon wanted to know.
“No, that’s not it at all,” I admitted. “I know that I’ve never told any of you this before, but I have always been attracted to other males, even though I’ve spent a lifetime trying to hide those feelings. When I was growing up, things were even more negative toward homosexuals than they are now, so I felt I had to keep that fact hidden. I never felt I could be honest or let anyone else know how I truly felt. That’s probably the biggest reason I wanted to make sure you boys didn’t to have to live your lives the same way I did, hiding your feelings from the world.”
“You mean you’re gay, Dad?” Danny blurted out.
“Possibly, Danny, but at the least bisexual. I had a great marriage and four wonderful children. That wasn’t a mistake and I don’t regret one minute of that life. However, I’ve still felt an attraction toward other males during that same period, but I believed it best to suppress those urges and never allow myself to experience the other part of my sexual orientation.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind having sex with us, Pop?” Brandon asked, very directly.
“No, I wouldn’t mind,” I answered, honestly, “but I don’t want you boys to feel that you have to have sexual relations with me to show me that you love me or for me to prove that I love you.”
“We know we don’t HAVE to have sex with you, Pop,” Brandon countered, “it’s just that we WANT to.”
“I’m not sure what kind of attraction you two could have for a pudgy, balding, old man.” I quipped.
“We don’t see you that way, Dad,” Danny told me. “We aren’t just looking at your body and how you look, we’re looking at the real you – your heart and what’s inside. To us, you’re the most beautiful person alive.”
I almost started to cry after he finished his last statement and fought to regain my composure, while seeking to address this issue. “Let’s think about this some more, before we make any decision. You are both fourteen, and even though that’s the current legal age of consent in Pennsylvania and you can do what you wish, I still think we should explore this further before making a final decision. I want both of you to think about it some more and then we can discuss this again next weekend. Is that okay with you?” I hoped they would come to the same conclusion I had, that this might not be such a good idea, thus taking me off the hook. That way, I wouldn’t be the one to hurt their feelings, by turning them down.
Fortunately, they both agreed with my suggestion and then left my room. Once I finished unpacking, I headed back downstairs. When I reached the bottom, I noticed the flashing light on my answering machine, which caused me to wonder who had called and how long it had been since they had left their message.