Retired U.S. Rep. Jerry Costello, D-Illinois, spent his entire congressional career on the House committee that oversees railroads, highways, transit and aviation — where he became known as a dependable advocate for transportation interests in his downstate district and beyond.

 

Here’s a link to the story in the Southern Illinoisan.

SPRINGFIELD — Having given up on extending Illinois’ temporary income tax increase — at least for now — the Illinois Legislature is moving forward with a scaled-back budget that could lead to layoffs, further delays in paying the state’s bills and a post-election vote to make the tax hike permanent or generate some other source of revenue.

Here’s the link at the Chicago Sun-Times.

(Editor’s Note:  This story was published in the Southern Illinoisan in 2004.)

 

By Jim Muir

The barber tools have been sold, the small portable building has been moved from its familiar location on Sesser’s north side and the curtain has dropped on a Sesser tradition that spanned more than eight decades.

In short, Delmar Jones has dusted off his last haircut.

The 79-year-old Jones remembers the last haircut he gave, it took place a couple of weeks ago, but the new retiree also showed a keen memory by recalling the exact date of the first haircut he administered back when he was a 16-year-old youth learning the barber trade from his father, Stanley.

Together the father-son duo spent 84 years keeping men and boys in the Sesser area looking dapper.

“I remember when I gave my first haircut, it was on August 6, 1941,” said Jones. “My dad was registered with the state and even though I was still in high school I could study under him. At that time you could do that.”

With the United States at war Jones enlisted in the Army during his senior year of high school in 1943 and actually had to have his entry date into the military pushed back in order to graduate.

“I registered on my birthday on Feb. 6 and they called me on March 23 and I had to go to the veteran’s association to get an extension in order to stay in high school until I graduated,” said Jones. “I graduated in late May and on June 8, 1943 I was in Chicago.”

Jones was in the service until February 1946 when he returned to Sesser and within a matter of days was married.

“I lived on love for a few weeks but then I decided I was going to have to eat and I went to work with my dad on March 1, 1946,” said Jones.

Counting the two years that Jones cut hair prior to his stint in the military, he cut hair in Sesser for 58 years.

Jones recalled that his father opened a barber shop in Sesser in 1920 and cut hair for 44 years before retiring.

“My dad cut his last head of hair in December 1964 and died in February 1965,” Jones said. “So, you can pretty much say that he worked right up until the time he died.

Jones said he “wouldn’t even attempt to guess” how many haircuts he’s given in his lifetime, but did remember a quite memorable day when he was in the Army.

“One day in the Army I cut 54 heads of hair at 40 cents a head,” said Jones. “I got to keep 30 cents of it so it wasn’t a bad day.”

Jones said when he first began his career on Sesser’s Main Street a haircut cost 35 cents and when he retired the price was $8. However, the cost of his labor is only one of many changes he witnessed throughout his lengthy career. After his father passed away Jones had four different partners that helped him man his two-chair shop.

He noted that barbershops were once a hotbed of discussion and on occasion he played both psychologist and referee.

“The conversation was the most enjoyable part of the job,” said Jones. “I loved all the conversation, every minute of it. And there was always plenty of it. I’ve heard it all, the good times and the bad times. And there was a time years ago when the barbershop was a gathering place and a good spot to hang out and get the news. A lot of times guys just came in to visit.”

Jones said putting a group of men with varying opinions in close quarters could sometimes be interesting and occasionally alarming.

“There was some pretty lively discussions an occasionally things could get a little heated,” said Jones. “I had two guys get into it one time about politics, they were talking about President Reagan and unions and one of the guys almost jumped out of the chair.”

Jones said he first noticed a sweeping change in men’s hairstyles in the mid-1960s and said that is also when many men started going to beauty shops for a haircut.

“After the Beatles came over here everything changed,” said Jones. “There was a real decline in business because young boys didn’t get their hair cut as often, if they got it cut at all. Before the Beatles a lot of young guys got their hair cut every two weeks but that all changed. I’m not a friend of the Beatles.”

Jones said he has literally watched generation after generation of Sesser families move through his barber shop.

“I have seen six generations of the Buntin family in my barber shop,” Jones said. “And there are several families in Sesser that I’ve cut five generations of hair.”

Jones said he has also had steady customers that have spanned his entire career. Keith Ward, 65, said Jones gave him his very first haircut and added that he is not entirely enthused about the retirement and the prospect of looking for a new barber.

“Unless he was sick or I happened to be on vacation, nobody else has ever cut my hair. I can easily say that he has been my barber my entire life,” said Ward. “And the toughest thing about this for me is that nobody can cut my hair like Jonesy. I’ll never be satisfied with another haircut.”

Ward said Jones value to the city of Sesser went far beyond his barber skills.

“He’s just an asset to the city; you just don’t find people like him anymore,” said Ward. “And anytime there has been a military funeral in Sesser during the past 60 years he’s been there. He’s the guy that gets everybody together and when they march to the cemetery every year on Memorial Day, Jones is there. He’s just a just a great guy and I hope he has a great retirement, but I’m still not happy that he won’t be my barber anymore.”

Despite the countless hours on his feet Jones said his legs have held up well during his long career.

“My hips and my shoulders have really started bothering me and that’s what caused me to retire,” said Jones.

Jones said he also remembers a few mishaps along the way, especially with children.

“There were a few nicks along the way and you always had some little guy that couldn’t sit still and would turn his head when he wasn’t supposed to and that includes the guy that’s writing this story,” Jones said. “I still remember that one.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh come all you young fellers so young and so fine
Seek not your fortune in a dark dreary mine
It’ll form as a habit and seep in your soul
Till the stream of your blood runs as black as the coal
Where it’s dark as a dungeon and damp as the dew
Where the danger is double and pleasures are few
Where the rain never falls the sun never shines
It’s a dark as a dungeon way down in the mine”

“Dark as a Dungeon” – Johnny Cash

 

By Jim Muir

Like many area residents I had that ‘kicked-in-the-gut’ feeling Wednesday when I learned that there had been a fatal accident at the Viking Mine near Thompsonville.  Like the old Johnny Cash song says so correctly … ‘where the danger is double and pleasures are few.’

Adding more grief to that familiar feeling was the fact that the young man was only 25 years old.  In terms of life … just a kid.

And it was with a unique perspective that I started following the story. It’s always the way I follow tragedy in the coal industry. Even for a guy that strings words together for a living it’s hard for me to explain how I feel. For want of a better explanation, it’s like every story that involves coal mining grabs me and won’t let go. Sometimes I do what I am doing now, sit down and write and try to sort my jumbled thoughts out.

You see, as I watch these stories play out, I realize that I know these people and the lives that this now-grieving family live. I know their lifestyle, their desires, their tenacity, their faith, their endurance, their ingenuity and their fears. I’ve never met the young man that was killed or his family … but I know them.

I know about riding a ‘cage’ 600-feet into the ground and about the feel and smell of the damp, dark recesses of a coal mine. I know about swing-shifts, rock falls and about trading the ability to breathe fresh air for a paycheck. I know what it feels like to change clothes next to a fellow miner at midnight and laugh and talk with him only to learn that he was killed in a rock fall three hours later. I know about the eerily quiet, subdued feelings that are present when miners return to work on the shift following a fatality. I know what it feels like to work in the exact same section of a mine where only hours before a young life had been snuffed out.  I helped in the recovery of miners killed in roof falls so I also know what it’s like to hide my fears and tears and to hope against hope, even if it’s only a fleeting hope.

Again as I follow another tragedy, I am reminded that occupation-wise I’ve lived two lives. I spent 20 years as a coal miner that nobody knew and the past 20 years as a reporter, broadcaster and columnist that a lot of people know.

To many, it might seem logical to embrace my current job status and visibility and to shun my previous life as an underground coal miner. But, that will never happen because that’s where I came from, that my roots. While it’s been 20-plus years since I worked my last shift in an underground coal mine those days are like yesterday, never too far away.

Again, I don’t know anybody involved in this story personally, but I do know them well and my heart breaks for them. They are just like the people I worked with every day for two decades. As my mother used to say, ‘they are the salt of the earth.’ These people are hard-working, faithful, loyal, outspoken and certainly not afraid to stand up for what they believe. As I watched this current tragedy unfold I am also reminded once again that I am who I am today not because of something I learned in a classroom but because of my previous ‘life’ and because I ‘know’ these people. Even if I wanted to (and I don’t) I will never shed my blue-collar mentality.  It’s just part of my fabric and makeup and always will be.

In the coming days the Viking Mine will reopen and loved ones will worry and fret as miners will grab their dinner buckets and trudge off again into the bowels of the earth to mine coal. But those miners will go because, speaking as the son and grandson of coal miners, ‘it’s a way of life, it’s all we know.’

God Bless this grieving family and the miners at Viking Mine.