A gut-busting, only slightly exaggerated memoir of growing up in Pennsylvania’s Anthracite Coal Region in the 1950s and 1960s. From flattop haircuts to football fanaticism, block parties to balsa wood models, beer to . . . more beer, this is a rollicking, nostalgic account of life in a Pennsylvania coal town. In a region where downtrodden immigrants from Italy, Ireland, and Eastern Europe poured in during the nineteenth century to find work in the mines—except for the ones who got tired and just stopped in New Jersey—a unique culture was passed down from generation to generation, and this book provides a vivid and humorous picture of what it was like to experience childhood there in the mid-twentieth century. Mike Breslin enthusiastically shares his many stories with readers, because his family is sick of hearing them. And as for the pierogies of the title, no one actually passes them. When the plate comes out, it’s every man for himself.
