a pre-poem glimpse: betty kunkel, born 1939.

although the first year and book from this poetry project are still going to be a part of talks for a while, since the second volume won't come out until autumn in 2016, and poetry readings for specific group audiences are still happening into this spring, it's exciting to share the news of the first interview for year two of this effort.

betty kunkel of hamburg borough worked in three different knitting mills in her hometown during the 1950s and 1960s. born in 1939, she is the beloved aunt of sherry fuhrmann who owns pure wild tea, a mint tea operation in upper tulphehocken township outside of the bernville area.

kunkel remembers that she initially struggled in using scissors as a belt sewer because she is left-handed, and most scissors are made for those who are right-handed. she sewed the waistbands of underwear for men and boys, including the tags noting size.

and she recalls that at two of the mills, music played on loudspeakers. she sang along to tunes by classic country performers like patsy cline.

with no place to heat up food at these jobs, kunkel packed cold chicken sandwiches and sometimes summer bologna sandwiches. her family did their own butchering on their farm, so her bites at lunchtime were not from a grocery store, like so much poultry and meat today.

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 hamburg knitting mill's former building on pine street in the borough.

dutching knitting mill, a smaller operation compared to hamburg 

knitting mill, sat in a building which faces fourth street.

burkey knitting mill, like hamburg knitting mill, sat on pine street.

a 1942 scene with helen mengel in ontelaunee township.

helen (hollenbach) mengel in 1942, alongside her then soon to be husband, carl mengel, at his parents' home in ontelaunee township. 

helen has a poem in the first volume for this poetry project. but interviewing her separately for her life story led to new information to share, that she'll be 92 in a few weeks and worked with five german war prisoners (former nazi soldiers) at the inspections office of the reading airport when it was used as a military air base during and after world war ii.

the photo is courtesy of her son kenneth mengel.

a poetry reading at the jewish cultural center in wyomissing.

last thursday, the senior club at the jewish cultural center in wyomissing enjoyed lunch, good conversation, and a poetry reading featuring volume one of the labors of our fingertips: poems from manufacturing history in berks county.

and as a nice perk for chatting-minutes in the afternoon, several of the seniors are also poets of their own varieties. a few won honorable mention for poems they recently submitted to the annual berks encore poetry contest for seniors. and some of them had great questions about literature itself between sharing individual poems about what fellow seniors in berks county remember about the jobs that were such a large part of their identities and daily living in the past.

one woman wanted to know how words could be poetry if they did not rhyme, so we discussed the presence of line breaks which is absent in prose and also the differences between classical versus contemporary poetry, as well as the benefit of not limiting anyone's expression of self, since poetry is a form of art. there are more kinds of poetry as well as styles and approaches to it than are talked about in the larger culture, and getting to share examples of these and how berks county's poets as well as those from neighboring counties have skills in all different directions is truly a gift within this project. slam poetry served as just one newer genre mentioned.

we also discussed internal rhyme, which is used in john heck's poem in the very middle of the fourth line in the second stanza. the way internal rhyme is often accidental and also subtle gives it a unique and beautiful persuasion in language throwings.

thank you to carole robinson for assisting with eye-scooping scenes for the day, too.

in recent months at poetry readings which tend to be more cozy size-wise, copies of the first book for this project are passed around so that everyone in audiences can read the words they're hearing, since in some cases, it can be an easier way to take in the details of each line.

plus, since hearing difficulties are sometimes understandably in the picture, a chance to be able to read a poem on a page is a nice opportunity to still be able to absorb what's been expressed in the local story, cut into line breaks.

and since this project is an outlet to help teach that poetry can in fact be funny, the poems of edna machemer and ray doskus were a part of the selections read, too. these are two of several very honestly told laughter-ready stories in the first book of poems. the world will only benefit if we nudge a little more laughter out from within who we are.

a glimpse: tom sturgis, born 1934.

the beloved historic snack-making company known locally as tom sturgis pretzels is one of the only businesses in the first book for this project which is still in operation today. that's a rare aspect, and a crave-worthy one, too, on top of showing that this business truly matters to the community, which is a part of why it's still churning out pretzels for locals. and that also means there are lots of pictures here and on the facebook page for the project because the plant is cooking pretzels on such a regular basis.

tom sturgis joined the world in pennsylvania in 1934 and lives in cumru township. below is an exerpt of his poem from volume one of the labors of our fingertips: poems from manufacturing history in berks county.

the lesson at the end of this excerpt is one which audiences and anyone else who reads this story enjoys for its depth mixed with wit. this memory came from a question which is asked in all interviews for the project-- some version or another of wanting to know if any certain memories, whether exciting, tragic, funny, or just very worthwhile stick with them from many years ago across long-lost industries.

people in the community also love this for the fact that it's a food poem! we need more of those in life, agreed.

*

so many of the memories in my life
take shape in the form of pretzels,
the salt of them, the bite and break
of them as the hungriest bellies wait.

my great-grandfather, julius, began baking pretzels in lititz,
lancaster county, in 1861. four locations later, we’re the oldest

pretzel-making family in the country.
in the early days, i estimate they would
have made 1,000 pounds in 8 hours,
moving the dough on a wooden

peel, flipping them in the oven—an art in itself. i started
my pretzel-hours at age 12 in 1946. hearths are mostly

in the past, and so are the tanks
of straw water, what we used
to stain the dough darker after
all of that time in heat. a good

twister could curl 32,000 pretzels in a single shift. some
could do it almost without looking. but eventually, machines

had twisting skills, too. now, an extruder
cuts out 28 pretzels so fast, precisely.
one memory i still carry with me, though
is this: my dad picked me up for work—

i don’t like your attitude, he said. he spit chewing tobacco.
it landed in a speck on the windshield. he pointed to it, said,

     this is what you know.

     the rest of the windshield is what you
                                                                                                don’t know.

*