After 50 years, John Bova says it's time for his parents to be together again, and it's time to heal.

The 50-year-old son of lost Sheppton miner Louis Bova says he's ready to make it happen.John told the TIMES NEWS Tuesday that he will visit his father's entombment site late Wednesday and scatter the ashes of his mother, Eva Bova, Louis Bova's beloved wife."When that happens, they will be together again," says John, of Lower Shaft, a small Shenandoah-area settlement that some consider part of the town of William Penn.John's mother, Eva Kase Bova, passed away in November, 2006. Eva had been ill much of her life, says John. In an unusual medical condition, she had been born with three kidneys, a situation that caused health issues.The 1963 mine tragedy tore apart the Bova family, exacerbating Eva's medical woes, and prompting a stormy childhood for John.Eva was in and out of hospitals after the traumatic experience of losing her husband in the Sheppton Mine Disaster."My mom was sickly all her life," John says, adding that his mother rarely spoke of the tragedy."She was quiet. I guess it was her way of letting it go," he says.John was only 8 months old when the mine collapsed, and so he never knew his father, a native of nearby Pattersonville and the son of Italian immigrants.With his mother ill and father lost, John was sent to live with relatives, where he suffered severe abuse at home and harsh treatment in school. He was the subject of taunting from other kids and was impacted by cruel remarks, with many claiming that his father had been cannibalized by the two Sheppton survivors.The cannibalization folklore persists in the coal regions and has been especially hurtful to those impacted by the tragedy."How would you feel if people kept saying that your father had been eaten," says John, who wonders how his father actually died. "Did he starve death?" The questions persist.Adding to the insult was the 1971 musical recording of the Rupert Holmes song "Timothy" by the Buoys. The song tells of three trapped miners, two of whom resort to eating the third to avoid starvation.Frustrated, John rebelled and declined to cooperate while attending Shenandoah public schools and, at one point, was sent away to disciplinary school.Later, he married, and settled down, fathering two boys, now age 25 and 17. He worked for years as a mason and in the coal processing industry, but is now disabled.At one point, while working a bootleg mine, John descended deep inside the earth, same as his father. It gave him a feeling of peace, he says."I felt close to him."John lived with the stigma of the mine disaster all of his life, but has learned to cope."I came to grips with it because I can't change it," he reveals.Over the years, he's had his body tattooed with images that pay homage to his father, a man he wished he'd known.One tattoo across his back reads: Never Seen, Never Forgotten.Tonight the community will observe the 50th anniversary of the tragedy.After a service at St. Joseph's Church, Bishop John Barres, Allentown, will bless the ground and consecrate the monument.At 7:15 p.m., John will scatter his mother's ashes atop the place where his father became trapped and was never rescued."I wanted to do it long ago but the ground wasn't blessed," he says. "Now, after 50 years they'll be together again."For John, it'll be another step in what has been decades of healing.But the important thing, he says, is that folks remember Louis Bova. Departed loved ones must never be lost."I don't want people to forget," he says.