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Pittsburg Grotto (PCS Fieldhuse),
1965 Riverton, WV. Photo by A.B. Whittmore |
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RINGING THE NEW YEAR(S) AT
The Field House |
Many, many people will remember the Pittsburgh Grotto Fieldhousein Germany Valley, WVwhich served as the hub of caving activity for at least a decade. It was an ongoing tradition to be there New Year's Eve to meet new cavers and renew old acquaintances, sit around the stove, fight with the rats in the cistern, cook in the old kitchen and sleep anywhere one could find a spot, sometimes under the bunks upstairs. One of the favorite pastimes of those who stayed at the House was to traverse the entire house, upstairs and down, without touching the floor. In the kitchen one usually traversed over the refrigerator, sink and cabinets, although making the cross-over from the register book in the dining room to the refrigerator was a difficult task. But, by far the most difficult part was traversing the living room and going around the archway into the dining room; all this had to be done on the baseboard molding! Although the following essay was written after the PSChad taken over the Fieldhouse, it does give the reader a feeling of what a New Year's Eve party was like:
"What a weekend! I had heard tales of New Year's at Fieldhouse but never could quite picture them. I had even been afraid to go, but now I had committed myself. There was no turning back. My little heart was going thump, thump when we pulled into the yard and made our way through the maze of cars. I opened the car door and slowly got out. My ears picked up a noise which sounded much like an on-coming train and my nose ...the perfume parlor was downwind that night. I wended my way through cars, trucks, and motorcycles and managed to fight, my way to the back door through the back porch minority dancing the Hora. Carefully I turned the handle and peeked in, looking for a friendly face. My partner in crime had already leaped into the sea of humanity and as far as I was concerned was lost forever. Cautiously I fought, bit, and kicked my way into the dining room to find myself face to face with an orange refrigerator. With my security (a six pack) tucked under my arm, I found a square foot of floor space to await the New Year. From the living room came noises of guitars, banjos, and washtub basins mixed with a queer sort of caterwauling, when suddenly:
'Twas a half- hour before New Year''s,
And all through the Fieldhouse Every creature was stewing, even the mouse.
When what to my bleary eyes should appear,
Eight absolute misfits, dressed up to their ears.'
"I knew that the Fieldhouse was a popular place and some had even compared it to the 'Twenty one' since curtains had been hung; but these poor souls were obviously lost! There they stood resplendent in long gowns, black ties, and tails. Obviously, they were not cavers and had never entered the hallowed halls of Fieldhouse before. They even brought champagne and their own music. I quickly joined the crowd that gathered to study this new species of caver. They didn't seem to notice any of us at first, but proceeded to waltz, drink champagne, and exchange Christmas gifts.
"Suddenly I was dragged onto the dance floor by the short, blond-haired one. He looked kind of cute and teddy-beary. I certainly felt inferior in my levis. As I looked into those brown eyes ... why it was my old buddy Jerry Nettles! And that cute blond with the glittery eyes was none other than Hester Ailes. After closer examination, I discovered Sandy and Jerry Waters, Doug Medvilleand Hazel Stewart, and Lawry and Margi Cameron.
Suddenly it was three Minutes till midnight, then two, then one, then HAPPY NEW YEAR!! The usual boring primitive rites which occur during this occasion were experienced by all. Everyone then returned to the serious business of partying. Slowly but surely, though, the crowd began to thin out. Some people just have no stamina, including me. Around 4:00 AM, I finally split the scene and staggered to my square inch of hay in the barn to find, when I awoke the next morning, that the party was still going on. To my great surprise, some people were actually going to participate in the art of caving that afternoon. Then there were those who slept till 4:00 P.m. Sunday evening brought forth a repeat of the previous evening only at a lower octave. By Monday morning, we all looked like the wrath of God had stomped all over us which can mean only one thing: New Year's weekend in the new Fieldhouse had been a complete success!"--
Carolyn (CJ) Otten, THE POTOMAC CAVER, January 1967.
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