Coal Fields Of Pennsylvania Research Articles

Legacy sediment as a potential source of orthophosphate: Preliminary conceptual and geochemical models for the Susquehanna River, Chesapeake Bay watershed, USA

Nutrient pollution from agriculture and urban areas plus acid mine drainage (AMD) from legacy coal mines are primary causes of water-quality impairment in the Susquehanna River, which is the predominant source of freshwater and nutrients entering the Chesapeake Bay. Recent increases in the delivery of dissolved orthophosphate (PO4) from the river to the bay may be linked to long-term increases in pH, decreased acidity of precipitation, and decreased acidity, iron, and aluminum loading from widespread AMD. Since the 1950s, baseline pH increased from ~6.5 to ~8 in the West Branch and “North Branch” of the Susquehanna River, which drain bituminous and anthracite coalfields of Pennsylvania. A current baseline pH of ~8 and daily maxima exceeding 9 have been documented along the lower Susquehanna River. In response to improved river quality, bioavailable PO4 now may be released into solution from legacy sediment that has filled major impoundments in lower reaches of the river. At typical pH (5–8) of natural water, aqueous PO4 species tend to be adsorbed by hydrous iron, aluminum, and manganese oxides that coat soil and sediment particles; however, PO4 may be substantially desorbed at pH >8. We created a geochemical model that simulates equilibrium aqueous/solid distributions of PO4 as pH and other solution characteristics change. Considering current conditions in the lower Susquehanna River, the model demonstrates potential for extensive release of adsorbed PO4 at pH >8. Empirical data from laboratory experiments corroborate model results. The transfer of PO4 into the water column may increase algae growth, which removes CO2 and drives pH to higher values, facilitating additional PO4 release and exacerbating the potential for harmful algal blooms. Thus, legacy sediment is a currently unquantified source of PO4 that warrants consideration by resource managers and programs collaborating to reduce phosphorus loads to the bay and similar settings worldwide.

Irish on the Move: Performing Mobility in American Variety Theatre by Michelle Granshaw

Reviewed by: Irish on the Move: Performing Mobility in American Variety Theatre by Michelle Granshaw Matthew Rebhorn IRISH ON THE MOVE: PERFORMING MOBILITY IN AMERICAN VARIETY THEATRE. By Michelle Granshaw. Studies in Theatre History and Culture series. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 2019; pp. 288. It is perhaps unsurprising to realize that the famously xenophobic phrase “No Irish Need Apply” was in response to the perceived threat of Irish immigration to the United States starting in the mid-nineteenth century. As the past few years under the Trump administration have highlighted, however, the United States has an infuriating history of attempting to alienate immigrants—whether they be Irish, Chinese, or Latinx, to name a few—as a way to shore up white, Anglo-Saxon power. What is surprising about Michelle Granshaw’s fascinating work about Irish mobility is the way immigrants, like the Irish Americans she focuses on, used the very fact of their movement into and through the country to navigate this xenophobia by performing their Irishness. Recovering the little-studied “microhistories,” as she terms them, of Irish American involvement with the variety theatre in the late nineteenth century, Granshaw reveals the way that theatre became a crucible for combining and recombining notions of race, gender, and class. What one discovers by reading this richly researched study, therefore, is the way Irish Americans used their performative gestures both to acculturate themselves to American society and to retool that same society’s tenets. Her first chapter ably documents this idea in its engaging exploration of the comic “tramp”—the down-on-his-luck, wandering Irish character born in the wake of the Panic of 1873. Built from expert salvage work, this chapter chronicles the way that the unemployed Irish American tramp—a victim of a disappearing market for unskilled laborers— was characterized as a threat by American society precisely because of his mobility. As a character in novels, cartoons, and theatre, the Irish American tramp was stereotyped by his mobility, but as Granshaw relates, this mobility cut both ways. For nativists he was an anxious embodiment of the threats of Irish immigration; for Irish American audiences he became a heroic instantiation of the promise of moving up the social ladder. Charting the heroic mobility on the nation’s stages of a comic tramp like Johnny Wild, Granshaw demonstrates that this heroism came in part by distinguishing between Irish American tramps and Black tramps, with heroic white tramps claiming an access to mobility that, they insisted, Black tramps lacked. The next chapter builds on this idea of mobility by mapping out the competing ways that labor movements recoded Irish American working-class violence. Transforming the tramp into theatrical representations of Irish American freedom fighters, thereby directing their mobility and violence toward nationalism, variety theatre offered a positive representation of Irish American identity as these soldiers fought in Turkey, Greece, and Cuba. At the same time, the motif of fighting for liberty also showed up in variety theatricals focused on labor unrest. Characters like Molly Maguire existed historically as labor agitators in the coal fields of Pennsylvania after 1877, and the threat of their theatrical violence in the service of social justice became the flip side to the freedom fighters abroad. If the mobility of the freedom fighters could be imagined as promoting and extending American values in the world, Maguire’s mobility turned on her ability to mobilize alienated labor. The next chapters move away from more traditionally theatrical fare to take up the “hibernicon,” a moving panorama that depicted scenes of the “homeland” for nostalgic Irish immigrants; the use of Edward Harrigan and Tony Hart’s touring theatricals by local parish priests to bolster Catholicism; and finally, the fad for competitive race-walking, or “pedestrianism.” In these chapters, Irishness is still further defined by its mobility—its ability to move across a panorama, to reach small towns in the American countryside, and to represent movement itself in the disciplined form of middle-class “walking.” Granshaw is at her best when she balances the competing cultural and social work that Irish American variety theatre engaged in, and when she leans into the intersubjective nature of performance—so vital in situating...

A comparison of Asturian lepidodendroid lycophytes from the USA and the Euramerican Variscan Front

Species belonging to the Carboniferous genera Lepidodendron and Lepidophloios are well known from the coalfields of Pennsylvania (Lower Asturian (Westphalian D) substage of the Pennsylvanian) through the publications of Lesquereux and White. They believed that the lycophyte flora was rather distinct from other contemporaneous coal floras elsewhere due to its isolation. A full revision of the lepidodendroid lycophyte species is given here and this reassessment permitted comparisons with those floras known from the European and Canadian Maritimes coalfields. Differences in species distribution suggest there was a barrier (Arcadian Highlands) to species distribution to and from the coalfields of Pennsylvania. Several species are recognized only from the coalfields of Pennsylvania, although the number has been significantly reduced from the original publications.

Working-class Intangible Heritage from the Pennsylvania Coal Fields

V. Camille Westmont, doctoral candidate in anthropology at the University of Maryland, explores northeastern Pennsylvania's coal mining region and the intangible heritage of the places that once were coal mine company towns. Miners and their families lived in poverty, and the coal companies controlled most aspects of their lives, from housing and food to commercial goods. The intangible heritage of the resource economy these families developed to survive is now all that is left of the coal mining era, with company towns now indistinguishable from other rural and suburban areas.

“Gone to work to America”: Irish step-migration through south Wales in the 1860s and 1870s

Why did the Irish-born population of Wales decline so sharply in the decade 1861–1870? This paper argues that during the 1850s and 1860s, large numbers of Irish men and women travelled to south Wales in order to finance emigration to the USA. Using the US Federal Census, this paper shows how Irish step-migration through Wales led principally to the Pennsylvania coalfields. This type of migration is termed the Knight’s-move: a sideways move from agriculture into heavy industry, in order to advance forward across the Atlantic. The Knight’s-move challenges previous assumptions about immigration into the south Wales coalfield during the nineteenth century.

Editor’s Notes

Editor’s Notes Joe Mackall Are there too many memoirs out there? Are too many being written? Is enough, enough? After all, for the last twenty-five years we’ve read memoirs on every conceivable subject. Some great, some good, some fair, some poor. Everybody knows what those subjects are, so I’m not even going to bother listing them. I’m treating my question rhetorically, of course. Nobody would ask if it’s time to stop writing novels or poems or plays or movies, so I do not know why we’d ask it of memoir, but many critics do. Those of us who love memoir know how some critics appear to delight in deriding them. In the midst of reading another biography of Ulysses S. Grant, I decided again and forever that the answer is no. No, there will never be too many memoirs. While reading Grant all I could think about was how badly I would love to be able to read the hundreds of memoirs of the young men being commanded into battle by Grant. What story of being alive would the kid from the western Pennsylvania coal fields have to tell? And what about his friend who fled the family general store for the battlefield of Vicksburg? And what of that Ohio farm boy’s mother? What story of being alive would she have told? What could I have learned from his sister, as she sat on her porch at dusk, looking [End Page vii] over her family’s fallow fields, listening to pileated woodpeckers the size of crows? Who else would tell her story if not her? This is the great gift of memoir. Shared lives. How I wish the family narrators of my life would have written words on paper rather than spinning them out, around and over endless get-togethers at my maternal grandparents’ home. This is not to say they weren’t great storytellers. They were the first and therefore the finest. They’re the reason I fell in love with story, long before I fell in love with books. But it was all talk. And all of the passionate, wordy competitive storytellers, aunts and uncles and cousins, would interrupt and add details and laugh and contest and deny the details of others, and these endless narrative feasts would hover in the air for the night and in my heart forever. But I know how much I have lost. And I know how much I never received. Certain thoughts could never be spoken of around a dining room table. What did my grandmother worry about in the middle of the night? I wish she would have written words I could hold in my hand about having to bury two of her eight children. I’d love to spend a rainy Cleveland afternoon reading my maternal grandfather’s memoir. I’d give anything to know his heart as he sailed to New York City from southern Italy at age twelve, never seeing his parents again, not for the remaining eighty years of his life. But I need more than family stories. I need them all. I need the lives of others. And yes, all great art gives us these lives all the time. But it seems to be the special province of memoir, its simplest and purest objective. In a recent issue of the New Yorker, there’s an excerpt of a memoir from the famed New Yorker writer Joseph Mitchell. As always, Mitchell takes his readers for a walk through his adopted home, its boroughs, bars, churches, a tour of the architecture and ethos of New York City. Near the end of the piece, Mitchell admits to feeling estranged from the city he loved. He also speaks of a similar disaffection from his native North Carolina. A certain sadness quietly oozes from his sentences. He ends his piece with this: “Then, one Saturday afternoon, while I was walking around in the ruins of Washington Market, something happened to me that led me, step by step, out of my depression. A change took place in me. And that is what I want to tell about.” Unfortunately, [End Page viii] Mitchell never finished...

Coal Operators and Market Competition: The Case of West Virginia’s Smokeless Coalfields and the Fairmont Field, 1853–1933

a fierce commercial war that West Virginia’s coal operators waged against their northern rivals in the coalfields of Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois, and Indiana from 1853 to 1933, and focuses on two coal mining regions in West Virginia, the Fairmont Field in the north and the smokeless coalfields—the New River, Pocahontas, and Winding Gulf that straddled the counties of Fayette, Raleigh, Mercer, McDowell, and Wyoming—to the south. Bituminous coal production in the United States grew rapidly around the turn of the twentieth century in response to the country’s rising industrial demand. But the coal trade of the era was characterized by excessive competition, price fluctuations, and low profitability. Mary Beth Pudup has noted that bituminous coal operators weathered the vagaries of the coal trade through mergers and consolidations, regional trade associations, and joint sales organizations. Northern operators even turned to unionization as a way to equalize costs among producers. 2 When the operators of western Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois, and Indiana tried to neutralize competition from their low-cost southern rivals by reaching an accord with the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA) to negotiate industry-wide wage scales, West Virginia’s operators strenuously fought off this maneuver. The repeated refusals of West Virginia coal operators to recognize the union transformed West Virginia into a pariah in the eyes of its northern rivals, “a gun pointed at the heart of industrial government in the bituminous industry.” 3

Surrogate Supervisors: Railway Spotters and the Origins of Workplace Surveillance

Labor spies, the furtive agents working undercover and reporting on workers in American factories and mines, have long fascinated labor historians. This essay finds their forerunners in nineteenth-century railway spotters, undercover agents posing as passengers who rode American trains and streetcars surreptitiously observing conductors. Railway spotting started out not to thwart worker militancy but to curb conductors' fare thefts, which were prolific. In the 1850s, aspiring detective Allan Pinkerton devised and marketed spotting to railroads and streetcar corporations eager to maximize fare collection in a nascent service-sector industry. Their robust craft solidarity enabled conductors to build strong unions, but fare theft was a solitary, secretive act not sanctioned in conductors' workplace moral economy. Thus conductors individually contended with spotters on their cars but proved unable to devise a collective strategy to combat them. Meanwhile Pinkerton sent a railway spotter to infiltrate the Molly Maguires in the Pennsylvania coalfields in the 1870s, and railway spotting spawned labor spying. Spotting led conductors to mistrust their passengers, but labor spies, in the guise of workers, bred suspicion and undermined solidarity among workers. Labor espionage quickly spread across American industry, while fare collection technologies gradually replaced spotters. Historians have treated labor espionage as a straightforward example of employers' drive for workplace control, but the spotter phenomenon shows how a repressive management technique grew out of a more nuanced negotiation between workers and employers of a complex workplace problem.

Dissolved metals and associated constituents in abandoned coal-mine discharges, Pennsylvania, USA. Part 1: Constituent quantities and correlations

Abstract Complete hydrochemical data are rarely reported for coal-mine discharges (CMD). This report summarizes major and trace-element concentrations and loadings for CMD at 140 abandoned mines in the Anthracite and Bituminous Coalfields of Pennsylvania. Clean-sampling and low-level analytical methods were used in 1999 to collect data that could be useful to determine potential environmental effects, remediation strategies, and quantities of valuable constituents. A subset of 10 sites was resampled in 2003 to analyze both the CMD and associated ochreous precipitates; the hydrochemical data were similar in 2003 and 1999. In 1999, the flow at the 140 CMD sites ranged from 0.028 to 2210 L s −1 , with a median of 18.4 L s −1 . The pH ranged from 2.7 to 7.3; concentrations (range in mg/L) of dissolved (0.45-μm pore-size filter) SO 4 (34–2000), Fe (0.046–512), Mn (0.019–74), and Al (0.007–108) varied widely. Predominant metalloid elements were Si (2.7–31.3 mg L −1 ), B ( −1 ), Ge ( −1 ), and As ( −1 ). The most abundant trace metals, in order of median concentrations (range in μg/L), were Zn (0.6–10,000), Ni (2.6–3200), Co (0.27–3100), Ti (0.65–28), Cu (0.4–190), Cr ( −1 in 97% of the samples, with a maximum of 0.0175 μg L −1 . No samples had detectable concentrations of Hg, Os or Pt, and less than half of the samples had detectable Pd, Ag, Ru, Ta, Nb, Re or Sn. Predominant rare-earth elements, in order of median concentrations (range in μg/L), were Y (0.11–530), Ce (0.01–370), Sc (1.0–36), Nd (0.006–260), La (0.005–140), Gd (0.005–110), Dy (0.002–99) and Sm ( None of the 140 CMD samples met all US Environmental Protection Agency (USEPA) continuous-concentration criteria for protection of freshwater aquatic organisms; the samples exceeded criteria for Al, Fe, Co, Ni, and/or Zn. Ten percent of the samples exceeded USEPA primary drinking-water standards for As, and 33% exceeded standards for Be. Only one sample met drinking-water standards for inorganic constituents in a public water supply. Except for S, the nonmetal elements (S > C > P = N = Se) were not elevated in the CMD samples compared to average river water or seawater. Compared to seawater, the CMD samples also were poor in halogens (Cl > Br > I > F), alkalies (Na > K > Li > Rb > Cs), most alkaline earths (Ca > Mg > Sr), and most metalloids but were enriched by two to four orders of magnitude with Fe, Al, Mn, Co, Be, Sc, Y and the lanthanide rare-earth elements, and one order of magnitude with Ni and Zn. The ochre samples collected at a subset of 10 sites in 2003 were dominantly goethite with minor ferrihydrite or lepidocrocite. None of the samples for this subset contained schwertmannite or was Al rich, but most contained minor aluminosilicate detritus. Compared to concentrations in global average shale, the ochres were rich in Fe, Ag, As and Au, but were poor in most other metals and rare earths. The ochres were not enriched compared to commercial ore deposits mined for Au or other valuable metals. Although similar to commercial Fe ores in composition, the ochres are dispersed and present in relatively small quantities at most sites. Nevertheless, the ochres could be valuable for use as pigment.

Dissolved metals and associated constituents in abandoned coal-mine discharges, Pennsylvania, USA. Part 2: Geochemical controls on constituent concentrations

Water-quality data for discharges from 140 abandoned mines in the Anthracite and Bituminous Coalfields of Pennsylvania reveal complex relations among the pH and dissolved solute concentrations that can be explained with geochemical equilibrium models. Observed values of pH ranged from 2.7 to 7.3 in the coal-mine discharges (CMD). Generally, flow rates were smaller and solute concentrations were greater for low-pH CMD samples; pH typically increased with flow rate. Although the frequency distribution of pH was similar for the anthracite and bituminous discharges, the bituminous discharges had smaller median flow rates; greater concentrations of SO4, Fe, Al, As, Cd, Cu, Ni and Sr; comparable concentrations of Mn, Cd, Zn and Se; and smaller concentrations of Ba and Pb than anthracite discharges with the same pH values. The observed relations between the pH and constituent concentrations can be attributed to (1) dilution of acidic water by near-neutral or alkaline ground water; (2) solubility control of Al, Fe, Mn, Ba and Sr by hydroxide, sulfate, and/or carbonate minerals; and (3) aqueous SO4-complexation and surface-complexation (adsorption) reactions. The formation of AlSO4+andAlHSO42+ complexes adds to the total dissolved Al concentration at equilibrium with Al(OH)3 and/or Al hydroxysulfate phases and can account for 10–20 times greater concentrations of dissolved Al in SO4-laden bituminous discharges compared to anthracite discharges at pH of 5. Sulfate complexation can also account for 10–30 times greater concentrations of dissolved FeIII concentrations at equilibrium with Fe(OH)3 and/or schwertmannite (Fe8O8(OH)4.5(SO4)1.75) at pH of 3–5. In contrast, lower Ba concentrations in bituminous discharges indicate that elevated SO4 concentrations in these CMD sources could limit Ba concentrations by the precipitation of barite (BaSO4). Coprecipitation of Sr with barite could limit concentrations of this element. However, concentrations of dissolved Pb, Cu, Cd, Zn, and most other trace cations in CMD samples were orders of magnitude less than equilibrium with sulfate, carbonate, and/or hydroxide minerals. Surface complexation (adsorption) by hydrous ferric oxides (HFO) could account for the decreased concentrations of these divalent cations with increased pH. In contrast, increased concentrations of As and, to a lesser extent, Se with increased pH could result from the adsorption of these oxyanions by HFO at low pH and desorption at near-neutral pH. Hence, the solute concentrations in CMD and the purity of associated “ochres” formed in CMD settings are expected to vary with pH and aqueous SO4 concentration, with potential for elevated SO4, As and Se in ochres formed at low pH and elevated Cu, Cd, Pb and Zn in ochres formed at near-neutral pH. Elevated SO4 content of ochres could enhance the adsorption of cations at low pH, but decrease the adsorption of anions such as As. Such information on environmental processes that control element concentrations in aqueous samples and associated precipitates could be useful in the design of systems to reduce dissolved contaminant concentrations and/or to recover potentially valuable constituents in mine effluents.

English

Water-quality data for discharges from 140 abandoned mines in the Bituminous and Anthracite Coalfields of Pennsylvania illustrate relations among pH, sulfate, and dissolved metal concentrations. The pH for the 140 samples ranged from 2.7 to 7.3, with two modes at pH 2.5 to 4 (acidic) and 6 to 7 (near neutral). Generally, flow rates were smaller and solute concentrations were greater for low-pH samples; flow rates increased with pH. Although the pH distribution was similar for the bituminous and anthracite subsets, the bituminous discharges had smaller median flow rates, greater concentrations of sulfate, iron, and aluminum, and smaller concentrations of barium and lead than anthracite discharges with the same pH values. The observed relations between the pH and constituent concentrations can be attributed to (1) dilution of acidic water by alkaline ground water; (2) solubility control of aluminum, iron, manganese, barium, and lead by hydroxide, sulfate, and/or carbonate minerals; and (3) aqueous sulfate-complex formation. The formation of AlSO4 + and AlHSO4 +2 complexes adds to the total dissolved aluminum concentration at pH of equilibrium with aluminum hydroxide or hydroxysulfate minerals and can account for 10 to 20 times greater concentrations of dissolved aluminum in bituminous discharges compared to anthracite discharges at similar pH. Sulfate complexation also can account for 10 to 30 times greater concentrations of dissolved ferric iron concentrations at equilibrium with ferrihydrite (Fe(OH)3) and/or schwertmannite (Fe8O8(OH)4.5(SO4)1.75) at pH of 3 to 5. In contrast, lower barium and lead concentrations in bituminous than anthracite discharges indicates elevated sulfate concentration could decrease mobility of these metals by the formation of insoluble minerals such as barite (BaSO4) or anglesite (PbSO4). Most samples were saturated with barite, but none were saturated with anglesite. Hence, lead concentrations could be controlled by coprecipitation with barite and/or by adsorption to schwertmannite or another sulfate-bearing oxide. Additional

Carried by the wind: Producing W. B. Yeats's Euro‐Japanese dance play,The Dreaming of the Bones, in the coal fields of Pennsylvania

Carried by the wind: Producing W. B. Yeats's Euro‐Japanese dance play,<i>The Dreaming of the Bones</i>, in the coal fields of Pennsylvania

The Environmental Significance of Toxic Metals Found in Fish Collected Throughout the Coal Fields of Pennsylvania

The Environmental Significance of Toxic Metals Found in Fish Collected Throughout the Coal Fields of Pennsylvania

To Evangelize American Culture: A Franciscan Approach

ESSAYS TO EVANGELIZE AMERICAN CULTURE: A FRANCISCAN APPROACH The task of evangelizing American culture can be intimidating. Ours is a complicated way of living that seems impervious to the message of the Gospel. Moreover, many of us still suffer from that "immigrant inferiority" which cripples our ability to bring the insights of our faith to bear in the public order. This reflection is an attempt to overcome that intimidation and to suggest that the Franciscan vision offers some helpful ways of renewing our understanding of "work," an activity which sociologists and philosophers judge to be the key to a renewal of American life and culture.1 The first object of evangelization is ourselves. Before we presume to bear witness, we need to involve ourselves in the power of the Gospel. Secondly, we are commissioned to involve others in the power of the Gospel by helping them to construct new ways of thinking and doing things. As Francis showed during his "silent sermon"2 walking through Assisi with Brother Leo, we do this best by insinuating ourselves into the fabric of life, creating as imperceptibly as salt flavors and yeast makes rise a new vision and a new embodiment of God. When I was a novice I met a friar who collected the memorial cards my province issues when a friar dies. These cards are simply photos of the deceased with dates of birth, profession, and death inscribed on the back. I was only twenty-three and thought it weird that someone was so preoccupied with a somewhat morbid project like this. But today I have my own collection of such cards. Franciscans are a "community of memory" that is flesh and blood. As 1 Robert Bellah, ed. Habits of the Heart (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985) 287-88. 2 Pirmin Hasenohrl, Meditations on the Rule and Life of the Friars Minor (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1945) II 473. IODANIEL MCLELLAN often as I look at these men, I come to a better sense of who I am. I realize that these men developed ways of thinking and doing that involved black Americans, Jamaicans, college students, Franciscan novices, New Jersey Catholics, and peoples of the Orient in the power of the Gospel. These men were cut from the same flesh and blood as ourselves. They came from the streets of Manhattan, the coal fields of Pennsylvania, the neighborhoods of Buffalo. But in their own time and place they learned to embody Someone that captivated me. Ghrough these men I came to know Jesus as Francis knew him. In a simple, straight-forward way, these friars had done what God gave them to do. I remember these men, not because I am sentimental (some I loved, some disappointed me), but because I dare not forget that God's pastoral care is still incarnate; I need to trust that flesh and blood, recreated in baptism, can transform the world. I can never forget that I live amid the stuff of creation which, however scarred by human sin, is also scarred with the vestigium Dei. This "community of memory" helps me never forget that the care of that scarred creation is work entrusted to me. Moreover, this community of memory is testimony that the work of evangelizing American culture can be successfully undertaken by those who are products of that culture. AMERICAN AND FRANCISCAN: HOW COMPATIBLE? Perhaps when we are asked to evangelize American culture out of our Franciscan heritage we might wonder what an 800-yearold tradition rooted in Umbria has to say to a way of life only 200 years old. It ought to be clear that an evangelizer needs to speak the language of those among whom he goes. The way a person walks, dresses, combs his hair, votes, spends her money, the art he admires, the movies she walks out of—all this is language. Language is a device for communicating meaning: the meaning of our thoughts, our feelings, our fears and hopes. Do we American Franciscans "speak" a language our fellow Americans can understand? Believing that actions, our habits of living, are our most powerful words, let us explore the possibility of Americans understanding the Gospel as it...

Geographical Significance of Recent Changes in Mining in the Bituminous Coal Fields of Pennsylvania

the outstanding source of solid mineral fuel in the United States.' They have yielded, during approximately the past two centuries,2 almost eight billion tons of coal (Table I);3 and only during recent decades has their annual output been exceeded by that from the coal fields of West Virginia (Table II).4 No other state has yet succeeded in equalling the record annual output of bituminous coal established by Pennsylvania in 1918 (178,551,000 tons);5 and, with coal production of the nation experiencing a declining trend during recent years, it may at least be open to question whether such a record ever will

Federal and State Relations in the Control of Power Development and Distribution

M OST of the debate over the powers and duties of the Federal and state governments in dealing with our economic life beats the air in a war with shadows. It is a discussion of unrealities. The realities of this problem of power development and distribution are economic realities, but the debaters are blinded to them by phantoms from the world of politics. Take the State of Connecticut, for example. It is only a part of southern New England, the great finishing shop of American manufacturing enterprise. Upon Connecticut's small water powers the creative ingenuity and energy of its people, generations before the age of electricity, laid the foundations of the industrial greatness of the little commonwealth. The small water powers are intensively developed but were long since outgrown. Today the chief source of the life-stream of energy for Connecticut mills is in the coal fields of Pennsylvania. The margin of undeveloped water power within the state is small. So much for sources of supply. On the side of demand Connecticut today is too small a territory to be an economic unit of electric service. The

Cleveland: A City of Contacts

C LEVELAND is a city of contacts, a focus of natural highways. The only broad, fairly level, lowland route directly connecting the coal fields of Pennsylvania, Ohio, and West Virginia, with Lake Erie and the deep water course through the Great Lakes, reaches Lake Erie at the mouth of the Cuyahoga. The highway along the lake plain which rims the southern shore of Lake Erie passes through Cleveland.

Life in the Pennsylvania Coal Fields with Particular Reference to Women

Previous articleNext article FreeLife in the Pennsylvania Coal Fields with Particular Reference to WomenAnnie Marion MacleanAnnie Marion Maclean Search for more articles by this author PDFPDF PLUS Add to favoritesDownload CitationTrack CitationsPermissionsReprints Share onFacebookTwitterLinkedInRedditEmail SectionsMoreDetailsFiguresReferencesCited by American Journal of Sociology Volume 14, Number 3Nov., 1908 Article DOIhttps://doi.org/10.1086/211692 Views: 98Total views on this site Citations: 4Citations are reported from Crossref PDF download Crossref reports the following articles citing this article:Robert Schmidt The Queer Ladder of Social Mobility: Illegal Enterprise in the Anthracite Mining Region of Pennsylvania in the Interwar Decades (1917–1945), (Oct 2020): 43–74.https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-46327-4_3Steven D. Barleen ‘Rushing the growler’: can rushing and working-class politicization in the Gilded Age and Progressive Era, Labor History 55, no.44 (Aug 2014): 519–537.https://doi.org/10.1080/0023656X.2014.948710Tim Hallett, Greg Jeffers A Long-Neglected Mother of Contemporary Ethnography, Journal of Contemporary Ethnography 37, no.11 (Feb 2008): 3–37.https://doi.org/10.1177/0891241607303584TIM HALLETT, GARY ALAN FINE Ethnography 1900, Journal of Contemporary Ethnography 29, no.55 (Oct 2000): 593–617.https://doi.org/10.1177/089124100129024016

Economic Geology in the United States

A MASS of official publications received from the United States Geological Survey bears striking testimony to the extensive and admirable work which is being carried on by that body for the direct advancement of mining interests throughout the country. During the year ending June 30, 1907, the sum of 308,404l. was appropriated for the survey, and a large proportion of that amount was devoted to investigations of an economic character. The Bulletins published are admirably edited and copiously illustrated with plates and geological maps. The most valuable of the series is Bulletin No. 316, dealing with contributions to economic geology bearing upon coal, lignite, and peat. Special investigations were made to determine the extent of the coal lands remaining in the possession of the Government, and the quality and value of the coal deposits on these public lands. The survey has been giving more and more attention to the subject of coal, both as regards its geological relations and its technology. The brief reports contained in the Bulletin, the object of which is to secure prompt publication of the economic results of the investigations of the survey, have been edited by Mr. M. R. Campbell, and deal with work in the coalfields of Pennsylvania, Kentucky, Virginia, Alabama, Illinois, Arkansas, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, and California.

Reviews and Notices

Reviews and Notices