Around August 15, when I was 6, 7 or 8 years old in Pittsburgh, we would begin our summer evening ceremony of collecting lightning bugs. It seemed suddenly that the night skies were full of yellow bulbs flashing off and on. We would try our hardest not to have June Bugs, which seemed to mount a war on humans in August, fly on us, and try even harder not scream, squeal or sound like you were dying when they did land on a body part. We would try to ignore the shrill violin sounds of the Katydid’s which seemed to be playing a dirge announcing the death of summer with each and every elongated note. And we began the countdown of how many days were left until school started, the day after Labor Day.
We would begin to see commercials for the Jerry Lewis MDS telethon way back then. We would decide if our neighborhood would have a carnival for Jerry’s Kids or if we would take out Bell Jars and go collect money for this all American cause which ushered out the summer and announced Labor Day. My mother would receive her Super Fall Edition of the TV Guide promoting the line up and schedule for the fall programs coming to our three local television, KDKA, WTAE, WIIC, stations plus the ever boring educational TV outlet, WQED, all starting the Tuesday after Labor Day. Bill Burns our local news anchor would take a few minutes from his somber and sobering reporting of all things Pittsburgh and introduce Bert Parks, the perennial MC, host and all around good looking American male, and talk about the Miss America Pageant coming live from Atlantic City after Labor Day. Mr. Parks we were told was a bachelor so his flirting with the ladies was okay and what men in America did.
During one of the Sundays in the middle of August, the Pittsburgh Press would include a special “pull out” section of the paper highlighting the new cars made from Detroit. They would list each and every new model and talk about the scientific and technological advance made in creating these pride and joy of America products. We would save looking at either the Cadillac’s or Lincoln's last as for us they represented total wealth and luxury and if you could even look at them that meant you were rich. The three Department stores located only in downtown Pittsburgh, (Kaufman’s Gimbals and Joseph Horne), had advertisements in the paper reminding us that Winter was approaching, and shorts, pedal pushers, swim ware would be replaced with sweaters, coats and snow boots. And the department stores also mentioned that they had special dispensation from the church’s and would for this one Sunday before Labor Day be open for business.
My Dad, as he did for all American holidays, would supply the Denniston Avenue families with American flags so we could place them on our front lawns. The rule however was, you could only display them beginning the Saturday before Labor Day. He would remind us that he was a founder of the Fraternal Organization of Police which is a kind of labor union and one that helped my dad receive better benefits. We had no idea what benefits meant, but when my father spoke about them and my mother nodded her head in a slow but passionate manner we figured they were important. We were also reminded that Pittsburgh IS a STEEL town and if it were not for Labor unions and the hard work they do this would be a difficult city in which to live. At that early age I thought that Pittsburgh was the center of the universe, so I shook my head with the same passion as my mother when speaking of benefits.
Our Aunt Ruthie, (we never called neighbors who we knew really well Mr. or Mrs., but aunt and uncle) the only mother in the neighborhood who knew how to drive would remind us that we only had a few more weekends to go swimming. She would take us to Blue Spruce swim club, which for us was like going on a long summer vacation. She would pile in four people in the front seat, someone on somebody’s lap, six people in the backseat two people on laps and we would drive what seemed an eternity to go swimming. And we would have enough money to buy a hot dog and coke, which somehow seemed to dry up for us and disappear after Labor Day.
When I was younger it seemed life had an order to it. Surprises were always welcomed, but they never really snuck up on you too completely as to confuse you. Nothing happened too fast, and you seemed to have the time to live in the moment without having to worry about the moments coming up and coming up and coming up. Perhaps it was the innocence of youth, the ignorance of kids, the ideals of being young, but life seemed more a partnership between me and the world in which I lived and thrived.
Labor Day never seemed to suddenly appear, there was prep time to get to it. Labor Day evoked something special not just another three day weekend. Labor Day had meaning not just as holiday to spend money, but a time to remember the work you did to get here.
Labor Day 2011 is upon us. There are more people not being paid for their labor now since the days of the depression. There is more and more blue collar, labor jobs, being shipped out of this country then in it. For some Americans, the men and women who were considered heroes for helping America become strong because of their labor are now considered selfish, un-American and lazy by people looking for scapegoats and blame. Labor Day 2011 us upon us and I know for me, its meaning its purpose seem so different and disguised then the Labor Day I remember as a kid. We are told change is good and something you can believe in, but some how this change leaves me flat.
It is Labor Day 2011, and I wish the worker well. I wish his/her employer the strength to understand the value of a worker. I wish this nation the heart to continue on and fight as hard as we can those who consider laborers a cheap commodity they can buy and sell. Labor Day 2011.
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