The Journey Cotinues: You May Notice That We've Used Up All of Our Ns

Welcome to my hometown: Podunk, Pennsyltucky.

That tank is not even a joke.  

There is a decommissioned tank situated in the middle of town.  The locals don't even notice it anymore, though it does tend to startle visitors.  Observe below: me, perched on the tank, ready to direct my forces towards our southern enemies.  I'm talking about you, Punxsutawney.  

So I went to Pennsylvania for a few days.  Where my parents have the slowest internet connection on the entire plant.  And the Methodist church forgets to check their spelling.  Some things never change.

Mum and I always take a walk through town on those holidays that involve eating a huge meal.  We're usually the only people outside on these days.

Main Street.

This is the best pizza in the entire world.  For real.

It was a big day when we got this little Chinese Take-Out.

Our Glorious Free Public Library.  Which is actually very nice.

The Borough Building.  

The Mighty Toby River.  In the background is the Field of Dreams.  The Field of Dreams is what my family calls the high school football field, conveniently located a good healthy distance from the high school.  Happily so, in that it necessitates a parade through town for every single home football game.

In case you haven't noticed, this is pretty much Appalacchia.

The local historical society.  The contents are as bizarre as the facade.  Trust me.

The best part of the local historical society is that all of the now-defunct local newspaper issues have been archived and are in a searchable database designed mainly for genealogists.  Searching local surnames results in the extreme basics from the newspaper: birth, marriage, and death notices.  However, for more interesting deaths, the cause of death is noted, such as "struck by lightening".  A startling number of people in Brockway were killed via lightening strike in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

The building also has a nice bas-relief depicting our coal-mining ancestors.  The areas of highest relief are, appropriately, probably stained black from the fine coal dust that falls out of the sky thanks to nearby coal tipples.  

The Pool: the place to be in the summer if you are under 17 years of age.  When I took this picture Mum said, "Photoshop that water to be blue."  I'm no wizard; if it ain't there, it ain't there.

Our local Catholic Parish, St. Tobias.  There is an entire campus associated with the church: I'm only sharing pictures of a few of the landmarks, and I'm not even including the impressive larger-than life Italian marble crucifixion scene/shrine out along Main Street.  

Mum strikes the same pose, in the exact same spot, where she was photographed as a tiny little girl as part of her First Communion Class.  Awww.

We're quite witty at St. Tobias.  Makes the Methodist church look like a bunch of dullards, doesn't it?  (For those who've not had the opportunity to visit, a similar sign is at the far end of the sidewalk.  On the back of the sign, in large letters, is the word 'ETERNITY'.