By Tom Slattery
If you’re like many Philadelphians, your forefathers came from the coal regions of Schuylkill County to escape the mines. If you’re a descendant of a miner–or a Molly Maguire–I may have seen you a few weeks ago in Heckshersville for the 20th annual Clover Fire Company Irish Festival. Every year at the end of July, descendants of Irish coal miners from the five-county Philly area come to this remote valley (where cell phones are useless unless they have an extendable antenna) to celebrate their heritage.
Heckshersville is a town so small (how small is it?) that it doesn’t have a post office and the name on the highway sign is spelled one way entering from the east and another if you’re coming in from the west. Remote, yes. Small, yes. But one of the friendliest places to spend a weekend, whether camping out or staying in one of the nearby (10-15 miles) motels ($50 including continental breakfast).
The festival starts Friday night with a concert and runs from 1 PM both Saturday and Sunday. No matter who else is performing, you can always count on seeing the Irish Balladeers and the Irish Lads, local groups that have been playing Irish traditional music for over 25 years (actually the Balladeers are closing in on 40 years). This year, the Balladeers played to an overflow crowd, lounging in beach chairs under a huge canopy, and they kept it going from 1PM to 6PM on Saturday with breaks featuring Irish dancers, awards ceremonies, and a Finnegan’s Wake put on by the Cass Township AOH. What an afternoon! Hearing “The Sons of Molly Maguire” sung by the group that wrote it was worth the price of admission ($4).
Then there was the Wake! Jaysus, you never heard so much keenin’ and yowling in your life, and such accolades heaped on the well-dressed figure in the coffin. Actually he looked much better than he did in his life, bum that he was. All this and they were only able to collect $1.81 to help defray the funeral expenses, an amount so small that the “priest” pocketed it himself.
Birnam Wood, a Celtic Rock group from New Jersey, closed out the evening. There was plenty of “picnic” food available – hot dogs, hamburgers, French fries, colcannon, bleenies – water, sodas, a lots of sudsy stuff at $1.25 a glass and $6 a pitcher. A man has got to be very careful, ‘cause for less than $10 them mountain roads can become mighty curvy. They’re that way even before you imbibe. Best to have a designated driver, a position well respected in this remote area.
On Sunday they serve an Irish breakfast from 7AM and then around 11AM there is a parade to the old St. Kiernan’s Church for an Irish Mass. Charlie Zahm, one of the Philadelphia area’s best known Celtic singers, entertained the crowd from 1PM until 4PM. Then another Wake! Somebody shoot the keeners, please.
Then, as they have since the Festival started 20 years ago, the Irish Lads closed out the entertainment. They were scheduled from 4 to 8, but about 5:15 the mighty rumbles started, and the weather Heckshersille had escaped all weekend announced its arrival in no uncertain terms – boom ditty boom boom. Of course, the Irish Lads said there was nothing to worry about, that is, until the third time lightning took out the sound system.
I just managed to load my car as the rains started. I pondered having a few with some friends. However, the idea of a fully loaded down Lincoln Town Car getting stuck in what quickly would become a swamp, unpondered me quickly, and wasn’t I but two miles down the road when the torrents started. Boy, somebody must have really ticked Him off, because He must have had the whole holy crowd throwing down bucketsful. Ah, but I will be back there next year on the last weekend in July – back to one of the friendliest festivals around, listening to great music, eating food guaranteed to keep you from blowing away and hearing the stories of life in the mines.