The silver screen
It is a strange experience to see yourself on the big screen, larger than life, talking about some topic on which you are an expert. In my case, that would be the mine fire that has been burning near or under Centralia, Pa., since 1962. It is one thing to see yourself on TV, on the little screen, but another thing entirely to see yourself in giant size in a darkened theater with hundreds of people hanging on your every word.
I had that experience Saturday night in Pottsville, Pa., during a screening of "The Town That Was," a feature-length documentary about the Centralia mine fire. I wrote a book, Unseen Danger, about the mine fire, and I appear or am heard a dozen times in the documentary. Pottsville is 18 miles southeast of Centralia along Route 61, and this was the first screening of "The Town That Was" within easy driving distance of where the bulk of Centralia residents went to live after the mass relocation of the 1980s. The film played at the Philadelphia Film Festival and Los Angeles Film Festival last year, but hasn't to date gotten a broadcast deal, which is a shame.
I drove up to Pottsville with my younger daughter, Lydia. The Sovereign Majestic Theater, where the screening would be held, had been a silent film palace until 1930, then spent the next 70 or so years as a farmers market. Earlier in the current decade, the city fathers of Pottsville converted it back to an arts center. It holds about 225 people, and most of the seats were taken. Tickets were $5. I was curious who would come to see it. Many of the people who walked in were older, but there was a fair number of young couples, even a few who appeared to be there on dates. Maybe they thought it would be like "Silent Hill," the horror film loosely, very loosely based on Centralia. Or not.
"The Town That Was" centers on John Lokitis, Jr., the youngest of the dozen or so people who refuse to leave Centralia. Lokitis, now in his late 30s, lives alone in his grandparents' former home and tries to keep what's left of the town alive. He mows some of the lawns, puts up the municipal Christmas decorations, and briefly was Centralia's mayor. He inspires both respect and derision among people who see the film. But the film is more than just about Lokitis--viewers learn the history of the mine fire (Cliff Notes version) and see what Centralia used to look like. Some of my photographs of Centralia in its final years were used in the film, but what's great are the Super 8 home movies the directors were able to dig out of the attics of former Centralia residents.
I was there anonymously, and didn't know if anyone would recognize me as we left. Lydia and I walked out and people were standing in front of the theater, still talking about what they had seen. We walked up to the Greystone Restaurant, but it was packed and so we walked back. I saw people looking at me funny, and we heard them whisper, "That's him, he was in the movie." This is not an experience I ever expected to have. A young guy came up and addressed me by name. He told me he had read my book and was a big fan. An old guy was right behind him, shaking my hand for a long time and explaining that he had grown up in Centralia but left in 1942, no doubt for the war. Eighty years-old now, he was grateful the film had been made. "I never thought I would live to see something like this," he said.
Moments like this help make up for all the crap any writer goes through.