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cially the coldest temperature ever recorded on this day in Coraopolis, colder than the -5 degrees on January 7, 1884.
• Not everyone needs nicotine or a gambling fix. Earlier, down at the riverside petroleum depot, where the wind is whipping fog along the water, brothers Danny and John Mayak have to inspect a barge full of gasoline.
• "Just dress warm," Danny Mayak says, his eyes peeking through a slit in his face mask. "You just do your job no matter what. You get used to it."
• And there are eggs and mayonnaise that need to be unloaded at the McDonalds, for Tuesday morning's rush.
• "Yes, I am cold," says Lanier Petitie, unloading boxes from a truck, wearing a pair of knit chartreuse gloves.
• Knit chartreuse gloves? Petite looks at his hands and shrugs. "Dollar store. Last minute."
• A car thief could make out like a bandit in Coraopolis on this night -- there are empty vehicles idling outside McDonalds, the Uni-Mart, the pizza shop, the Jailhouse Saloon. A giant gasoline tanker truck idles outside the petroleum depot gates while the driver inhales a cigarette and waits for a train to pass.
• Still, it's a slow night for Eric Fiedler, the police dispatcher. "Nothing's going on," he says.
• He walked the 20 minutes to work, unfazed by the thermometer.
• "If it was this temperature in Minnesota," he says, "nobody would say anything."
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