Homestead

had been on fire once, had possessed vibrancy and life (p. 464)

A handful of activist ministers had gathered along the way holding tomatoes, and Chief Kelly assumed, not without reason, that they were going to throw them at the prince— or, in the argot of the protesters, 'tomato him.' (p. 462)

In its tragedy, Homestead became fashionable [...] Homestead was the rage. There were study groups and committees, historical exhibits, film proposals, lectures, brown-bag lunches, dinners, economic analyses, historical surveys, oral histories, a case study of disinvestment and redevelopment plans in the Monongahela Valley done by the Harvard Business School. Architects, city planners, historians, economists, anthropologists, sociologists, social workers, foundation experts—all these and others became involved. (p. 458)

little effect on Homestead or the other steel towns. There never was a plan to redevelop Homestead. The goal had been to ensure there were no more protests like the ones earlier in the decade. If there was a master plan, it was death and highways. The Homestead workers were dying, and in another decade or so more would be gone. A highway through the valley would eliminate even more houses, perhaps obliterate Homestead and the other steel towns [...] One more thing [...] the training programs. They were bullshit. (p. 463)