a poetry reading at studio b this july to introduce the third & final book of poems in this project.

last weekend, i hosted the first poetry reading of 2017 to introduce the newest poems in this project in the third and final book which is in the works for the labors of our fingertips: poems from manufacturing history in berks county.

studio b's hardworking volunteers kindly served to offer this venue rental in the community, and it is always a wonderful place for poetry readings and bringing people together who aren't normally into poetry but do want to hear the stories written in these recollections from interviews. it's also then a nice way to expose people to less common lines of poetry through local history and documenting the lives of seniors in our area.

betty sefrit who worked at boyertown auto body works wasn't able to make it as planned but hopes to be at the next poetry reading at studio b on sunday, october 8 at 1 p.m.

betty's co-worker ernie haas, however, was able to attend and brought along some neat old black and white pictures as well as a magazine where boyertown auto body works was featured.

and richard and mary-frances haas joined the afternoon in talking about their work at bally ribbon mills as well as great american knitting mills, inc., which was the home to the gold toe sock factory.

walter delong, from my second volume in this project, also chimed in from the audience sometimes in relating his work with others at boyertown auto body works, as did leonard crowdell who worked with mary-frances after moving here from england in the 1960s to fix knitting machines.

and walter makes a second appearance in the upcoming volume three also, through another poem-source's memories, but that glimmer will be shared sometime a bit more into the future.

here are some eye-scenes from the poetry readings, thanks to laura kline's camera efforts. and a long excerpt from one of the special featured guests is included.

*

mary-frances koch, washington  township | born: 1941

rudi abrams told me, you aren’t meant for the factory—you 

are meant to work in the office, after i did trimming of gold

toe socks for great american knitting mills, inc. in bally. i

started in customer service but had a belly with a baby in it

by 1963, another child at home for richard and me. when

i returned in 1966, plant floor jobs were all they had, but rudi

brought me into production and inventory clerk work in 1967.

he came here from germany, ran the plant, made this place 

his home by 1923. our 75th anniversary booklet showcases

one page from his technical journal from his study of textiles

at the university of stuttgart, his german-jewish words spelled 

gracefully, sprawling, scratched ink, mingling with sketches 

of knitted patterns for the strongest weave, early design ideas

to later catapult his invention—a linenized toe made to outlast

any wear with durable reinforcement in the yarn. i issued our

knitting and dyeing schedules, maintained stock-keeping 

units across all departments. from 1972 to 1978, i moved

into supervising above my last role. after viola edge let out

word of retiring, having nudged me into getting that first job

long ago, she recommended me for her position, personnel

manager, trained me for several months before she said adieu

to a life of socks upon socks every single day. i went from her

position to human resource administrator, to office manager,

once they hired someone else to help with the interviewing...

a preview of volume three from this project.

today's mail brought the gift of the proof of volume three from this project from my publisher. here are some eye-scenes from it. some early copies will be ready by mid-august, and the rest will be available in late september. it'll be so nice to be at this point in three years of these efforts, and the final poems have some stories which speak into the deepest of the unsaid so far. it'll all make sense once you read volume three. =)

a poetry reading at studio b on sunday, july 23 at 1 p.m. to introduce volume three poems.

four special, featured guests will be a part of the upcoming poetry reading for this project at studio b in boyertown on sunday, july 23 at 1 p.m.  spread the proverbial word.

this is the first new poetry reading of 2017 to introduce poems from the third and final book in the labors of our fingertips: poems from manufacturing history in berks county.

betty seifrit and ernie haas worked at boyertown auto body works. richard koch worked at bally ribbon mills, while his wife, mary-frances koch, worked at great american knitting mills, inc., the original home to the gold toe sock factory. below are some eye-scenes of them, and betty is pictured with her fur kid sophie who has two beautiful and different colors of eyes. everyone here other than sophie the dog will be a part of this upcoming poetry reading, ready to share more about their memories after answering questions from the audience.

and here is an excerpt of betty seifrit's poem.

betty seifrit, union township | born: 1940

i left some sewing place on first street in birdsboro after

i heard boyertown auto body works had openings, and not 

just for men—my grandmother, maude reinert, worked there

long before me. i wish i knew what role her hands played

in prepping trucks for highways, local roads. maude left 

us, this world, by 1953, after first opening her infant eyes

in the oley valley in 1899. back when we had contracts

with the government, i built just the left-hand side doors 

of u.s. army trucks. somebody else in our plant managed 

the passenger’s sides. we handled our shifts in the building

next to the hookies, a firehouse where those who live

for bingo bring ink-ready dabbers to win cuts of london 

broil, full chickens, ground beef, pork chops. bill wiles, 

some call him butcher bill, supplies the meat from burt’s 

farms along route 100 just outside of bechtelsville. with 

those truck doors for the grips of military drivers behind 

the wheel, i secured spongy insulation, fitting it tightly into 

the frames. i practiced the art of adding hinges, gave door

handles their purpose, shined it all up with a final protective 

coating. a crane-like machine above moved doors along once

i’d finished, maybe 5 or 6 a day. next stop—paint shop.

then they moved me back to the building on south walnut 

street. i became a woman of more electrical energy, running

wires from tail lights. i’d maneuver underneath, hooking up

brake lights. a clamp in my palm helped. some of the trucks...

a glimpse: mary ann hudzik, born 1935.

the blur of getting the final volume of work for this project done has led to less updates here besides poetry reading scenes. publishing stages are finally just around the corner.

here is a first introduction into samplings from volume three of the labors of our fingertips: poems from manufacturing history in berks county.

mary ann hudzik lives in cumru township. i met mary ann through her granddaughter zoe who i met while doing a poetry reading at reading area community college. zoe connected me with her grandmother, and i loved how kind and easy to talk to she seemed right away, waiting for me in the lobby of her apartment to make it simpler on me so i didn't have to hunt my way up to the top floor in an unfamiliar place. i wouldn't have minded walking the stairs or taking an elevator, but it was kind of her to wait for me, and i interviewed her in a community-ish room on the first floor.

below is a photograph of mary ann, followed by a long excerpt of her poem in the upcoming third and final book in this project.

*

mary ann hudzik, cumru township | born: 1935

never meeting my grandfather who didn’t survive the flu

epidemic, i kept his naturalization papers from germany—

frank cieplinski. his grave shows he made it to 53, born

august 16, 1865, leaning his way into dust by august 14, 

1919. grandmother victoria made it through, had a house 

built on south tenth street in the city of reading, paid off 

that loan on her own. she birthed my father there. my mother 

knew final pregnancy pains with me in that home, too. by

1965, narrow fabric in west reading hired me. i ran machines

for four years. maybe you had 200 or so strips processing, but

these machines were lengthy. i mostly remember that we

fashioned the material for fishnet stockings, although we

weren’t the ones who did the final work, shaped where legs

and feet fit into them. bra straps, now those i remember

well enough. they had lace machines for wedding gowns

but only briefly due to the market’s complexity, how 

fussy a bride can get, and those designs were more than

just ornate. different machines did different cuts of widths.

we kept several ladders around to replace the enormous

wooden spools, stocked on shelves set back, higher than

our heads. spooling happened on the fifth floor. before i

had a car, i took a few buses to get to work, had to deal

with downpours of rain, hoping to avoid the soaking

of it with what an umbrella could do. eventually, i left

those machines, moved to the office, became a secretary

to the plant’s manager, martin horn. meetings always

blurring the hours, i brewed 7 or 8 pots of coffee a day.

that mr. horn loved machinery, jumped at the chance

to work a plow in winter’s blustery months when snow

covered our parking lot, savored digging holes for trees

outside in springtime. they gave us nicely-sized hershey

bars at christmas...