If You Ask Me / By Martha Knight

Dad would put in a long shift at PC and then do whichever milking came next, in the days he had to support the farm until it could support the family. Sometimes he would talk about the people he worked with, and the various bosses at the plant. One he liked and respected was called “Griffie.”

That would have been L.O. Griffith Sr. His son, L.O. Griffith Jr., known as Larry, went to school in Port. He is in yearbook photos of the football team, looking alert and earnest.

I didn’t know him in those days, of course, but when I came back to town after living elsewhere for 18 years, he was the Port Allegany Borough manager. In those intervening years he had worked for Pittsburgh Corning, doubtless following the career path he had seen as his destiny, and for which he had attended Alfred School of Ceramics to become a ceramics engineer.

But he left PC and the field! Years later he told me some of the story. Told of the trip to London, to watch asbestos processing at Cape, and learn how workers must be kept from inhaling the deadly particles. Told of the report and how it had been delivered, and the original and the carbons collected, and the notes demanded.

Larry told me how it hurt to look at his fellow employees and know they were being endangered, and feel helpless to prevent it. He left PC having accomplished quite a lot, I suppose, but not what he most wanted to.

He was an excellent borough manager. The solid waste revolution was taking place: open dumps and burning were being outlawed. Industrial waste wasn’t to be disposed of carelessly—no more Love Canals. The county landfill was being planned. The PC dump was to be cleaned up.

Larry was passionate about recycling, and about eliminating “back road dumping.” It was important to catch people who were throwing their garbage and junk into the newspaper collection shed or in the alley. It was important to salvage materials like paper and metal and glass and rubber and make good use of them.

“Do you know how many tons of ferrous scrap rust away every year?” he would say, in his challenging way, and then supply the astonishing number. He arranged for car crushers to visit the community periodically to get rid of “junkers.”

There were “buy the bag” systems for apportioning the costs of garbage collection. Many borough residents disliked the idea of having to pay much of anything for the service, and found it bothersome to buy special bags. Stickers weren’t much better. Arrgh!

Larry wanted to see useful buildings recycled, too. He would have loved to see the depot renovated for a borough headquarters. He took me for a tour of the place, empty and abandoned, and recently acquired by the borough (along with several other properties). “This boiler can be pressured up and pass the tests!” he enthused, about the steam heat. He showed me his sketches of how the space would be utilized. He diagrammed the new wiring, the lighting.

Recently I saw old news photos of an event he took part in, a ribbon cutting when Lillibridge Place opened. The old borough building had been removed, along with other buildings in that area, after Hurricane Agnes flooding.  

Larry and Trudy lived in Sedalia for a time, and raised Cairn terriers. In more recent years he lived in this area, lost his beloved Trudy, was a greeter at a store, went to live with his daughter. His son brought him to a major anniversary year alumni dinner dance last year.

It was quite an effort for him—breathing was difficult. His old school pal Basil Kio had been strongly focused on the reunion, but they lost him just weeks before the event, and that saddened everyone. Covering the event, I hated thinking I would not see Larry again in this life.

That knowledge was in his face. He posed for photos with classmates. We had a chat and then a warm handclasp. I thanked him for his service to our community. “There was so much more I wanted to do,” he said, thinking back. Then, “Keep telling it like it is.” And he smiled, with a flash of the old determination and zeal.

Sandra Kinney, Liberty Township tax collector, attended a township supervisors meeting with some tax proceeds to turn over, some information for them, and a reminder of the township’s obligation to help support the library.

The Samuel W. Smith Memorial Public Library and Bookmobile costs $10,000 a month, Kinney told the supervisors and others present. At that moment she was not speaking as the elected tax collector, but as a volunteer member of the library board, and its treasurer, and the township’s representative on the board.

She also mentioned that Liberty Township residents comprise a fifth of the users of the library.

Let’s see. Translated to dollars and cents, that would make the township’s share $2,000 a month, wouldn’t it? $24,000 a year?

How much does the township contribute? The library is in the township’s current budget for $500.

Actually, there’s a lot more to it than that. The library’s annual operating costs can be stated in terms of so much a month, true, but there are also resources in addition to the contributions from the four townships and two boroughs it serves. Debt service is part of the picture—the new library is not paid for, we must remember.

The library is used more heavily than it used to be, at any location. The state’s support has diminished in the past several years, not just for this public library but for many, and they are feeling the pinch.

There is some sort of arrangement whereby the borough provides services, and the library’s staff salaries and benefits are paid by the borough, but the library board reimburses the borough. The borough taxes include 3.65 mills dedicated to library support—clearly the lion’s share “local effort.”

Time for the others, including those served by the bookmobile, to “step up,” if you ask me.

Peace.