Appendix 2

VIGNETTES OF THE Valley

By Charlotte Lance

The Times-Leader | October 25, 1945

This is dedicated to "Emily" ... because she's been slighted

V - O - V

Emily was a hard-working, early-rising, faithful little craft; and she plied the waters of Harvey's Lake when the Wilkes-Barre, Natoma, Shawanese, Acoma, Kingston-and perhaps the Roslyn graced the waterways. She was self-effacing-subordinating herself to her more pretentious sisters; going about her business in a quiet way. She belonged to one of the rival steamship companies -or perhaps to the subsequent merger. At any rate, she was a busy little boat and she had received no recognition of her valuable service.

V - O - V

Emily collected the earliest rising commuters dotted here and there about the lake, while her big sisters slept late. Ordinarily there weren't enough people who arose at Harvey's Lake to take the 7 a.m. trolley to town to make it worthwhile to fire the bigger boats at that hour.

So Emily chugged amiably around the lake, collecting her passengers from the "West Corner," Alderson, and other points of the "North Corner" - taking well over an hour for the round trip. Nothing but an insane and insatiable love of water travel-ranging from ocean liner to flat-bottom row boat - could have made that daily trip endurable. It was roughly estimated that a minimum of four hours-if one was lucky-was required to get daily to and from one's place of occupation. [Editor's Note: From the Lake to Wilkes-Barre and return]

V - O - V

When Cap'n Anderson was at the helm of the Emily-he was the real admiral of the fleet (Cap'n George Anderson, who knew everybody and everybody knew him) the trip was at its best. On the return trip in the evening there was slightly more impatience. Frequently Emily was the only boat at the dock to meet the homecoming workers.

One beautiful evening as toilers from the city dashed hopefully down the hill from the trolley there was little Emily. Because of their greater knots per hour, the toilers would have preferred the Wilkes-Barre, the Kingston, the Natoma (she only condescended to come out for big occasions anyway), etc.; but it was a relief to see something ... even Emily.

The sun was setting gorgeously. It "sets good" at Harvey's Lake. Nowhere better!

For reassurance of the Emily's passengers there was tacked up in the cabin this comforting statement: "We have never had any trouble with the engine of this boat. We never expect to have any trouble with it." One could entertain oneself by alternately looking at the sunset and the pleasant sign.

V - O - V

The passengers settled themselves with a patience and resignation born of many trips with Emily. Just as she was opposite the Eno summer residence (their boathouse had the inviting name "Stop-A-Bit" with additional threatening signs below saying, "Private Property - No Trespassing") an ominous silence rent the air. The Emily's engine-with no warning-was dead.

The engineer leaped to his engine, struggled valiantly; staggered to his toolbox, grabbed some tools and struggled more valiantly. The passengers looked at the sign ... but they didn't blame Emily. They knew she had been overworking.

A crash split the silence. The engineer jumped in the air, expecting to see his passengers flying into the lake from an explosion. It was only the heavy lid of the tool box that a gently heaving swell had caused to fall with a crack as of doom.

As the shades of night descended, the Emily revived, and eventually her starving cargo was deposited at their respective lakeside docks.

V - O - V

If the spirits of the Wilkes-Barre, Kingston, Natoma, Acoma, Shawanese and Roslyn, still hover over the lake, and their exploits are remembered, then-in justice-must the patient little Emily be placed among them.

 

[Editor's Notes: Charlotte L. Lance was a Washington State native who resided in Wilkes-Barre for 50 years before moving to Ridley Park, PA, in the mid-1960s. She was a long-time reporter and columnist for the Wilkes-Barre Times Leader. During WWII she also directed radio broadcasts in cooperation with the War Food Administration. Her Vignettes of the Valley column ran daily from June 1936 to November 1948. She died at age 90 in New Jersey in late February 1982. Rest in Peace.