3 sg Es nr oP The Small Business Adminis- tration has announced that 140 checks totaling about $500,000 were available at the Wilkes- Barre office in.the Provincial Tower Building, 34 South Main St., Wilkes-Barre. Efforts to reach recipients through thaggnail and by tele- phone have een unsuccessful. Those whose names are listed should contact the SBA at its Disaster Office as soon as possible. Wilkes-Barre Allen, Orville and Lovelia; Brown, Dorothy; Cheshalava- ge, Joseph and Antoinette; Clarke, John F.; Clifford, William and Mary; Cooper, Mary V.; Davis, Harry and Judy; Dohman, William and Josephine; Dymond, Franklin and Marion; Dymond, Harral and Leslie; Elias, Michael and’ Eleanor; Ie Patrick and Elizabeth: ogher, Michael Charles; Fritz, Charles and Elizabeth. Gonzales, Virginia; Henson, Donald and Margaret; Hines, Elmer and Doris; Hines, John and Marie; John, Joseph and Audukia; Johnson, Morris B.; Joseph, Mamie; Karl, Fred and Ann; Koval, Phillip and Theresa; Latshaw, Todd and Wynette; Lewis, Bonnie M.; Magagna, Egamett and Ruth; Maguire, Wittam and Mary; Makuch, Peter and Alma; Mohanco, John; Morris, Josephine;. Muchukot, Anna; Palata, William and Anna; Reilly, Paul and Sachinko; Stella, Carl and Patricia; Joseph and Martha; Tencza, Francis; Thieman, Gustay and Rosemary; Thomas, Mark and Patricia. Plymouth Baluh, Joseph and Phyllis; Dmuchoski, Stanley and Helen; Herring, Julia; James, Thomas and Elizabeth; Pacewicz, Stanley T.: Phillips, David and Elizabeth; Russell, Thomas and Stella; Sweeney, Vicent, D; Kingston Altman, Richard, Henry; Barnowski, Peter and Catherine; Booth, Robert E.: Chokola, Lawrence and Lorraine; Connally, Charles and Ann Marie; Edwards, James and Nancy; Feldman, Donna L.; Flanders, Robert M.; Gregory, Betty Jane; Griffith, Tom and Jewel; Hine, Harry and Marion; Hughes, Thomas and Nancy; Hutnick, Margaret C.; Jor- dan, Mary A.; Katsaba, John and Helen; Leitz, Michel and Shana; Lewis, Dewey J.; Maier, Thomas and Sandra; McCreary, Frank and Hypatia; McKune, John and Loretta; Munkatchy, Edward and Elizabeth; Pape, Francis and Emma; Petrosky, Joseph and Patricia; Pugh, Robert and Marguerite. Roth, Myrtle, May; Schulda- ski, John and Rose; Thomas, George :Jr., and Edith; Trevethan, Clifford and Lottie; Walker, Ronald and Karen; Warnagiris, Thomas and Mary; Welsh, Michael and Barbara; Williams, Harry and Florence; Zelinsky, Vincent; Zim- merman, Henry and Anne. Forty-Fort Deppen, Richard and Mary; Labatch, Vincent and Alice: Lawrence, Michael and Anna; Liguori, Samuel and Sandra; Martinsky, Albert and Maureen; Maughn, Elizabeth M.; Maynard, William and Margaret; Pani, John and Victoria; Pedrick, William and Ann; Silver, Helen E.; Tobin, Thomas, J. Jr. Edwardsville Kravitz, Bernard and Dorothy; Lewar, Aric and Eva; Macchia, Donick and Joann; Maceiko, Daniel and Defriede; O’Leary, Donald and Marianne; Scanlon, Catherine and Theresa; Scanlon, Mary; Scanlon, Therese Rita; Wenta, Elwood and Dina. Swoyersville Casterline Mahlon and Florence; Kovalik, Bernard and Jane; Kuher, Joseph and Kathleen; Lanunziata, Mary Ann; Lanuti, Louisa; Rod- minick, Henry and Patricia. To THE POST: It is with gratitude that we acknowled the volunteers that have responded to the needs of the Wyoming Valley region during the first few weeks of this continuing ‘agony of Agnes’. Without these people countless numbers here, who are unable to accomplish their own clean-up work, would still be staggering under the mud and debris left behind by the now docile Susquehanna. This has beén called the greatest natural disaster in the history of our nation-people have responded to this disaster and we have witnessed one of the greatest out-pourings of love and sympathy and help in this same history. During these four weeks there has been drama and heroics. There have been ‘people dazed with shock, crammed eyacuation centers, helicopters Wonming treetops- and there has been publicity that brought all the help we have had. Now many people are moving back into their homes; setting up shop in bare but scrubbed rooms. There are many who cannot get hawk. For these the world is stillNgray brown mud and a cot in an evacuation center. They are not in their homes because they cannot do for themselves what is necessary. Their homes are still unaired-their cellars are still their rooms must still be emptied of soaked mattresses and furniture-the list is too lengthy to mention. This letter is to appeal for help for these people. We are asking for a day or days of time. One organization here alone has the need for 1285 volunteers, working a full week just to meet the requests for help that argon file. Anywhere from 15 to {more requests are received daily. This work is only the basic clean-up necessary, usually totaling 130 hours per home. One major job is to haul ruined furnishings onto the street where they can be hauled away. It is inevitable that the cities and towns. in- volved will set a time limit on the removal operations and these people face a possible fine if their things must be hauled away after a date that could be set at any time. The people who cannot do this work for them- selves are the elderly, the in- firm; those who are alone-most of whom can afford neither to hire help or to pay the fine. If ther are people who wish to help, either as individuals or groups, we have two organ- izations through which they may work. Through them, volunteers will be assigned to homes where help has been re- quested by the owners. The order of assignments is on the basis of need; anyone may apply for this help. Work can be done through the Metropolitan Lutheran Council of Wilkes-Barre or the United Methodist Flood Relief of Wyoming Valley. Volunteers can simply report as early as possible in the morning or, if in large numbers, call these centers to make arrangements. They should be as self contained as possible, bringing with them, cleaning materials, old clothing, boots and rubber gloves. It would help to bring lunch and a beverage. These are the directions for making contact: Metropolitan Lutheran Council: Out of Christ Lutheran Church N. Washington St. and Beaumont, Wilkes-Barre. Come onto town on Rt. 115, follow the routing for Rt. 309 as it turns right or north over the Butler St. Bridge (a long concrete structure). The second traffic light is N. Washington St., turn left for one block. For large groups call Ruth Hallett at 717- 829-2330. United Methodist Flood Relief: Out of Luzerne United Methodist Church, 450 Bennett St., Luzerne. Go: east on Wyoming Ave. until just past the Rt. 309 cut off. Immediately look for Bennett St: and turn left. For large groups call Phyllis Schmoyer at 717-287- 6231. For those in need here in Luzerne County we say ‘‘thank you’’, for all that has been done. There is so much left to do. We have shown your readers the need- we hope that there are many among them who define “a call” as to see a need and to respond. Mr. and Mrs. Robert Hallett Coordinators: Metropolitan Lutheran Council of Wilkes-Barre James Green Coordinator : United Methodist Flood Relief of Wyoming Valley Hunlocks Creek Bonham, Leroy and Betty; Grant, James and Betty. Hanover Township Hungarter, Ronald Karen. and Lynwood Cessaric, Joan; Kogut, Frank and Martha. West Wyoming Gavlic, Peter and Theresa; Marlin, Joseph and Jane. Askam Pearlman, Margery. West Nanticoke McDermott, William and Elizabeth; Zolan, Darrell and Bonnie. Ashley Roberts, Frederick and ° Gloria, Plains Spring, William and Camille. Tunkhannock Walsh, Gerald and Arlene. The Wilkes-Barre Office is open daily, from 8a.m. to 8 p.m. and may be reached by tele- phone at 829-2641. Wi by Ralph Nader WASHINGTON--Sometime before the end of the year, the soft drink industry expects to overtake coffee as the leading liquid beverage in the United States. Having zoomed past milk in 1966, the family of Coke, Pepsi, 7-Up, ete. now is racing to outpace the only remaining liquid consumed in greater volume--drinking water. The industry’s psychology is revealed in these words from its trade journal Soft Drink In- dustry (SDI): ‘‘Significant in a study of bev- erage trends is the fact that the total liquid intake of Americans appears to be stable, at a level estimated at two quarts per day. Thus if one or more beverages shows appreciable growth in per capita con- sumption, one or more other beverages must be expected to show ‘a corresponding decline. Included in this give-and-take proposition is water which, while still consumed at a rate of close to 60 gallons a year per person, has been declining in (Editor’s Note: This article was submitted . by a National Guardsman from Waverly, who participated in active duty dur- ing the Flood of 72.) by Frederick Platt 3rd When high water comes to Plymouth, you can’t get into town from the south because of the lowlands at that end of the borough. Even an all-purpose, M151A1, olive drab green army jeep will stop short of fording 10 to 15 feet of muddy water that belongs somewhere back in a river about a quarter mile away. So, if you want to get from that bridge over the Sus- quehanna at the Southern end of Plymouth to the National Guard Armory which is up towards the center of town, you have to take a sharp left on a gravel road that leads you up over the top of the mountain through the scarred remains of an old strip mine. The people standing in front of the few small houses we pass at the beginning of this not-so- well-travelled road look bewild- ered at the sudden appearance of an entire convoy of military vehicles grinding and jolting their way up the hill towards an apparent dead end. The road winds and climbs through the stark pits and black banks left when the last stripping opera- tions pulled out years ago. You wonder how someone could devastate the top of a mountain like that and then just leave. As I look out on the ravaged landscape, bouncing along in a sort of sleepy wonder, I can’t believe that four hours ago I was in bed at home in Waverly, far from strip mines and floods—it’s - hard to believe, early on a Sunday morning, just what a difference 30 miles can make. Oh to be back in Waverly. As I come out of my day- dreaming, I find that the jeep has somehow made its way down the hill and out to a main road. And the sign says, ‘‘Wel- come to Plymouth Borough’. One week ago, I didn’t know where Plymouth was, and I am not sure that I know now. The road is clear with few cars, and here and there people come out on their front porchs to see the convoy pass on this rather cloudy, dismal Sunday. I see very little flooding and wonder just why I had to crawl out of the armory and a chance to talk to the boys who flew down here by helicopter while I took ‘‘the road less travelled by’. The armory sits on high ground, looking down on Route 11 which is the main street of Plymouth. As we enter the large parking lot, I can see that there are far more civilians than Na- tional Guardsmen here. The entrance to the building is plas- tered with Red Cross signs and posters telling flood victims how to register. Guardsmen mill around, hands in pockets, dismally brooding about how long they will be -in this town. Off in the corner of the parking lot I can hear the faint murmer of a priest saying mass, sur- rounded by a huddled crowd of both civilians and guardsmen. I still feel only hal awake and ing with friends occasionally and worrying about my wife who has no idea where I am or how long I will be away. Down the hill, beyond Route 11, between those two houses and the used car lot, I can see a development of homes. Those homes are surrounded by water. Those homes ARE sur- rounded by water, Instead of a basement wall or shrubbery around the bases of the homes, of the second story or, in some cases, just the reflection of the roof. Suddenly, the flood becomes very real. Something that has been remote, some- thing reported on television, radio, and in newspapers is now reality. After seeing pictures of floods elsewhere I am surprised at how shocked I am just seeing a house sitting there in eight to 10 feet of water. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. If actually seeing something is worth a thousand pictures, it follows that it would require a million words for me to put the scene of destruction and devas- tation before me into words. Suffice for me to say that, as with . other examples of the power of nature in the raw, a serious flood in a heavily popu- lated area is awsome disaster. Watching a flood is a unique ex- perience in itself—you watch no action as in an auto race, and you do not behold beauty. What holds you there must be fasci- nation at the force of nature. It is so great and so unexpected that one can only stare, almost open-mouthed, and be impress- ed in an awsome way. Of course there are others standing, silently watching that flood. The people around me are looking at their own inundated homes. Those who have lived through a flood have feelings and emotions incomprehensible to someone like myself who is simply viewing the scene of de- vastation. How can I portray the feelings of those left homeless by the flood? I won’t Inside the armory there is a new world. Hundreds of cots are spread out across an immense drill floor in no apparent order, though the evacuees tend to stay on one side of the drill floor, and the guardsmen on the other. Since the power company cannot provide electricity dur- ing flood conditions, the few glaring yet insufficient light- bulbs which hang from the bar- joists above are fed by a dron- ing generator somewhere out- side. That generator putters on incessantly 24 hours a day. In that dark, jumbled mass of cots, you can see an occasional lump huddled beneath an army issue blanket. In one corner, five or six guardsmen lounge, ex- changing stories about the disaster. The day drags by between the arrivals and departures of heli- copters which bring supplies to the armory. Guard duty assignments are posted, and I am on from 3 a.m. to seven. Somehow, I find a cot and try to push this mass confusion from my mind long enough to sleep. ‘Every able-bodied man will get dressed and go by truck to the town hall to unload five trucks of emergency supplies.” “But Sarge, I just got to bed an hour ago” “Get up now and get in the truck.” So, my first view of downtown Plymouth is one of narrow streets in the pouring rain through the rear flap of a three- quarter-ton army vehicle. Our truck stops, and there are several trailers to be unloaded. The front porch of the town hall is a mass of cartons containing food and clothes all thrown into a pile. We rapidly bury one side of the porch with mattresses from one of the trucks. Time goes by with carton after carton carried into the building; and someone comes up to me with a hat. It’s mine...didn’t know T’d lost it. I notice that it is still rain- ing—my head is wet, I'm soak- ed. The trucks are eventually unloaded, and then it’s more of Plymouth out the back of a three-quarter-truck. Back at the armory the cot looks invit- ing, but it is almost 3 a.m. and I have guard duty. I have only had an hour of sleep, but Tom, who is on guard duty with me, worked at the flood up in New York State the night before, so he has had no sleep in two days. Tom slumps into the seat of the jeep, as I be- gin to drive on our four hour “roving guard’’. If you can get from the Ply- mouth Armory through town by taking a lot of side streets around the flooded area, there is a school up in Larksville where they serve coffee and doughnuts. After several dead end streets where we have to turn around at the water’s edge, we make our way across town to Larksville and the coffee. Bet- ween a few stops at the school, we roam the streets looking for looters. There are no street lights, though occasionally you come to a corner where a soli- tary guardsman stands in the drizzle in the light of a lantern. What a strange feeling ro. ming a town with no lights anl no one on the streets; and soinewhere down there is that grat body of water. It seems as though every human has been intimidated by that presence down in the town and is now hiding behind closed shutters until it leaves. The fourth hour in the jeep is the longest, but it passes, and I find myself being taken to the armory. Off to the side of the drill floor there’s a litter from one of the aid vehicles. I claim it for my bed. I am wet and cold and wonder why all these sleeping guards- men are not out on guard duty. To hell with Plymouth and the National Guard. But there on a cot, in silent vigil, an elderly couple looks out towards the flooded area; their home is down there. The old gentleman is wearing the clothes he has worn since he fled his home. He hasn’t shaven for several days. face to face with the flood. Now things are back in perspective; I know I am fortunate, and I know why I am down here. I see that the real disaster is not just in the physical destruction of houses, but in the despair brought upon the people of the valley. Life at the armory gradually settles down to a routine of meals, guard duty and sleep. The evacuees spend the first few days quietly watching That Thing down in their streets, and they murmur amongst them- selves their hopes and fears about what awaits them back home. Finally, the water does go away, leaving a stinking coating of slimy mud on every- thing, and there begins the clean-up job. You see those people leave the armory in the morning, full of hope. Then, at night, they drag themselves At first, each family tries to impress upon the others that they suffered the greatest loss. They try to out-do each other with stories of destroyed fur- niture, freak accidents, ‘‘every- thing lost.”” But every day, the people go back down where the flood was and throw their ruined belongings out into the street. Those earthmovers, pay- loaders, and trucks the en- gineers brought in are just tre- mendous. Put them to work for a week, and we should be able to clean up this town. And so, truckload after truckload of muddy furnishings are taken up to that strip mine on top of the mountain-the one we drove through what seems like a month ago. Have you ever seen the hopes and dreams of thousands of people for a comfortable happy home crushed and piled in a black pit, covered with that never-ending slime, or seen a child’s tricycle bent, and covered with mud, lying on the side of a gravel road where it fell from an overloaded truck? And there’s a guardsman, mud from head to toe, sitting in the street on a broken kitchen chair, playing a piano too choked with mud and trash to make a sound; a gruesome pantamime. Somehow, the town is being gradually cleaned. Here and there the mud is washed from the streets, and the last of the trash is thrown into the streets and frucked away. The evacuees begin to leave the armory and try to make it on their own. Even that old man and his wife finally walk off down the hill towards town. The river has permitted them once again to claim the land in the river plain for their own use- at least temporarily. And now the convoy pulls out of the armory towards Route 81. Once the water receeds, you can get to the bridge at the southern end of town by just following Route 11. You don’t have to drive up over the mountain through the stripping, so you won’t have to smell that stench up there where they dumped all that garbage. And if you get in the right hand lane and drive slowly, you can look over the guard rail and, far below, see the Susquehanna River flowing peacefully. the past decade and must now be considered vulnerable because of the widely publicized pollution problem....The oppor- tunity arises for substantial re- placement of water con- sumption by soft drinks in the future, thus expanding their ultimate market potential.” Given this grand design, three issues present themselves for consumers. First, to express glee over the sales gains by soft drinks due to contaminated drinking water is downright parasitic. Instead of trying to improve the quality of the nation’s water, the industry’s trade journal would have the public believe that soft drinks suffer no such contamination and should be purchased as a safeguard. What evidence is there to back up such a re- commendation that soft drinks are that pure? Second, what are consumers receiving nutritionally from their consumption of soft drinks at an ever increasing rate? Paul Austin, the head of Coca Cola, makes no nutritional claims for Coca Cola. He simply says that his company is selling ‘‘a re- freshing drink, nothing more, nothing less.”” Although he denies that Cokes have any adverse effect, his claim merits closer scrutiny. To the extent that soft drinks like Coke replace more nutri- tious beverages in the diet (for example, skim milk and fruit juice), they replace the Page 5 nutrients such as calcium, vitamin A and vitamin C with empty calories. Obesity and other health problems can result. Because the young are con- suming such a large volume of soft drinks, they are cultivating a demand for sugar, for things sweet, for instant taste grati- fication that carries over to other parts of the diet. More- over, the heavy sugar content of soft drinks in childrens’ diets contributes to tooth decay in the judgement of a number of specialists. As the largest company in the industry, with over 42 percent of the total market, Coca Cola has a special responsibility to re- think its corporate direction. Is it beyond its capability to make both a nutritious and refreshing drink? The evidence is that it can do just that but so vested is its interest in selling Coke as it is that a conflict of interests has developed. Why pioneer the new, the better and the venture- some when the company can play it safe with the old, diet- spoiler. and the successful? Because the former is the right thing to do. And when you’re the biggest company and by far an incredibly profitable industry, you can afford to pioneer. At the least, think of the hungry or malnourished children in this country and around the world, Mr. Austin, and of the pipeline of nutrition which you can extend to them. Red Cross Wyoming Valley Recovery Director Gene Nunley today announced further con- solidation of Red Cross Service Centers in this area. The Palmer School at An- dover and New Grove Street will serve the needs of east side disaster victims in the area formerly covered by the organi- zation’s service centers at Hanover, Nanticoke, Crest- wood, Bear Creek, the Jewish Synagogue, GAR School, and Guthrie School. All recovery assistance records have been consolidated, and are now located at Palmer School. Nunley said that victims with continuing disaster-caused needs may now go to this central location for help. On the west side, former service center assistance files from Plymouth, Swoyersville, Dallas, West Pittston, Trucks- ville, and Rutter School have been moved to the West Side Area Vocational Technical School and disaster victims with continuing needs must now go there for assistance. Mr. Nunley also stated his office will eventually locate all service center and admin- istrative activities at one location in the Wilkes-Barre area to more effectively serve victims. At this time, Red Cross officials are attempting to locate suitable quarters. The Red Cross Service Center at Forty Fort will remain open until further notice, handling only the continuing needs of those who have previously received assistance from that office. For The below. Record ment rejected, July 26. me
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers