My grandparents, my mom’s parents, met at church. My grandfather worked there, at the time, and my grandmother, my Baba, was always extremely Catholic. He was a sextant at the Slovak Catholic Church. He was a trained cabinet maker, though, and he worked on his family’s farm in Poland. He used to bring his cows to market early in the morning by crossing the river to the next country--he could get a better price for them there.

But after he came back to America, and got married, and started a family, he had to make money, and there was money to be made in the PA coal mines--so he forgot cabinet making for the time being, and got in on coal.

 

By the time my mom came around, my grandfather was no longer involved in coal. He was finally working in what he trained for: cabinet making. I don’t know why he stopped being a miner, but I do know that no one else in my family was involved with PA coal at this point, and it really wasn’t as big as it used to be. And not long after my mom came around, my grandfather started showing the insidious signs of Black Lung. He and my grandmother had to apply, and apply, and get physicals, and send more forms, and hope and pray that the US Department of Labor would send them benefits from the Black Lung Compensation Fund. After jumping through hoop after hoop, they did, which was helpful for them, and my grandmother even continued to receive the benefits after he died.