On April 5, 2010 around 3:00 pm eastern standard time, an odd vibration swept through the mountains of West Virginia. But sadly, this was not an unfamiliar vibration. It may have registered on the Richter Scale, if a seismograph had been in use, but it wasn't an earthquake.
Again, these old mountains have felt many of these vibrations over the years and likely will experience many more to come.
Montcoal, Raleigh County West Virginia was the site of the most recent coal mine explosion killing, as of this posting, 24 West Virginia coal miners. Once again, fathers, sons, husbands, uncles or grandfathers, who sought to earn a living mining coal lost their lives to the mountains.
West Virginia, Raleigh County as well as others, are no stranger to the anguished cries of family members who have just heard their loved ones will not be coming home. Since the state of West Virginia began mining coal in the late 1870's, over 600,000 of her residents have lost their lives mining the mineral. These courageous men only add to that figure.
I am glued to the television when I hear of such an accident. Why? Because I am a miner, as was my father and my brother. We are all coal miners and this is one occupation that I think lies deep with-in ones DNA. It takes a rare different breed of person to go day after day, underground to mine coal, or any other mineral for that matter.
I spent nearly 23 years as a coal miner and many times I have started my day underground only to feel some sort of pressure on me, then wake up hours later in the hospital. I cheated death once again. I was glued to the television back when the Quecreek Mine flood happened, patiently waiting for news of the miners survivors. We are a rare breed, we are survivors, we cheat death daily and one more time we will cheat it and come out alive, ready to do it all over again. I was glued to the television when the Sago Mine disaster happened, but this time something in my gut told me, there would be no happy ending. Miners know. They always know.
I remember when I first began working underground as a "red hat" or trainee. An old miner took me aside and looked me straight in the eye and said, "Pay attention to mother mountain, she'll talk to you and ya best be listen'n." I thought the old man was on drugs, but day after day, year after year, I began to understand what he meant. Those old mountains WILL speak to you, you just have to learn their language. They will let you know when it's safe to work. They will also let you know when you best be running in the opposite direction. And there are a few mountains who love to just keep silent. Those are the ones that will take your life in an instant!
Far too many times to recall, I have personally cheated death. I remember stupid section boss who told us to mine far to close to an active natural gas well. Knowing that one false move with a mining machine would cut the well casing, releasing the gas, one spark and it's all over for good. Many times we would mine near an older, abandoned mine that was full of water, in an instant we all could have drown. But we cheated death one more time. Horrible mining conditions, again, far too numerous to count, remembering times I had tears in my eyes wanting to quit and walk out, fearing for my life. But I had bills to pay and a family to support. Again, I cheated death.
The job I currently have, no mining involved now, takes me all over the state. I know the Montcoal, Whitesville areas and was very familiar with the Upper Big Branch mine or rather it's location. I even took photos of the over road conveyor belt that leads into the mine for my Legacy books, when it was first installed. I never knew I would ever see fire department and rescue workers sitting underneath it one day.
Today, April 7th, my job took me to Whitesville. As I neared the Montcoal area, it appeared that every place you looked, one could find signs reflecting the disaster. "Pray for our miners and their families." Sad, very sad. Huge electronic road signs flashing, "Emergency Ahead, local traffic only", were situated all up and down the road to Whitesville.
As I neared the preparation plant that cleaned the coal mined by Upper Big Branch Mine, the roadsides began to be cluttered with numerous vehicles. License plates on cars from as far away as Canada and as far east as Iowa. Camera crews from every major network sat patiently by the roadside awaiting news of the remaining 4 coal miners that have yet to be rescued or recovered form the mine.
Below the preparation plant sits Marshfork Middle School, surrounded by news vans, satelite trucks and hundreds of automobiles. The football field became the landing pad for three helicopters, I have no ideal who they were. Marshfork Middle School was the gathering place for the media. I understand that the world needs to know, as do I, but also understand the need to keep family members of the victims out of the media spotlight.
I slowly drove through the area, taking a glance up in the hollow where the mine was located, fully understanding what had happened. I felt a lump in my throat and a tear well up in my eye. Why? Because I am a coal miner. It's in my DNA, my blood. I share their pain, never fully knowing how they feel and praying I never do, but understanding what has taken place. I am a coal miner, and my brothers have perished, as many more before them have.
During the Sago Mine disaster, I remember one news reporter asking one family member a question. Now I understand, if you aren't familiar with coal mining, questions such as this, I assume, fill your mind. But he ask, concerning the explosion, "Is this (the explosion) something that is always on your minds? Do you always worry about this happening?" The family member answered, "No!" Coal miners never worry about such things. We know that such things can and do happen, but it is not a continuous worry. Certain mining conditions, such as bad roof conditions, keep us on our toes and lets us know that an accident can happen. Many people die daily in car accidents. And I ask, do you set off the the mall or Wal-Mart or even to work worrying that, today you are going to die in a car crash? No. But you know in your mind that people do get killed in car accidents and it is a possibility. The same with coal miners. We know it happens, roof collapse, rib rolls, machine related deaths and even mine gas explosions. It happens and we know it, but to us it is a part of life.
Why do we do it? Why do you get up every morning and head to work? Whether a professional in an office building or law enforcement officer or even head to work in fast food. To earn a living and often times, miners have no other choice but to work underground. Possibly a family heritage, yea its in our DNA I suppose.
Soon the remainder of the miners will either be rescued or recovered. The last victim will be buried and the investigation into what caused the explosion will reviel what actually happened. Then the roadway in Montcoal will show no signs of the news media or worried family and friends waiting for news. The company will go back into coal production and all will be forgotten by the world. All but those of us who live here, those of us who mine coal for a living. All of those who were directly affected by the death of a loved one, they will never forget.
We are coal miners and this is what we do. Many more will journey underneath these mountains to earn a living. Yes we are careful and yes we pray that, at shifts end, we can once again head towards home, safe and secure. I pray this never happens again but, because I am a miner, I know that it is always a strong possibility that it will.
For you see, these old West Virginia mountains are accustomed to hearing the cries of wives and children. They are use to men tunneling into them to mine their precious coal. Use to such explosions and so are the people who live and work inside them. We are coal miners and we know.
My heart and prayers go out to all of them. To all who have risk their lives in an unstable mine to rescue or recover those men. To bring some type of hope to their families.
With each blog I post, I have tried to find some type of background music to accompany the blog, to add emotional feeling as you read it. But this blog needs no such music. Words speak on their own. I ask, please feel free to pass this one blog posting around so that others can share this and remember those who have perished in the Upper Big Branch Mine. Help me to keep the memory of these brave men alive for as long as we can. Say a prayer, light a candle. They are just like each of you, all they wanted was a decent way of life full of hopes and dreams for their families. Let's keep their memory alive long after the news media has left Raleigh County. We are coal miners, and we will endure! We are akin to these old West Virginia mountains, as much a part of them as they are us. We are coal miners and coal mining families...A rare and Different Breed of people.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
A Different Breed.............
Posted by Lost in the 70's at 7:17 PM
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1 comments:
I read this with tears....
Beautiful!
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