By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
In the spring of 2014, Joann and I were on a photography trip to Kentucky. One place we wanted to visit was a memorial to a mining disaster that occurred back on December 30, 1970.
Forty-eight years ago, 40 miners left their families to work in the Finley coal mine at Hurricane Creek, outside of Hyden, Kentucky. Just after lunch, an explosion rocked the mine. Thirty-eight miners were inside the mine.
One miner, A. T. Collins, was the lone survivor of this tragedy. He was just returning to the mine when the explosion occurred and was blown back over 60 feet. He is honored with a plaque on the statue of a miner at the memorial. The plaque says, “A.T. Collins, 1923-2007, Survived by his wife Dora, four children, six grandchildren, and two great grandchildren. He worked as the beltman. He was the lone survivor of the tragedy and was blown over 60 feet out of the mine.”
The memorial consists of 16 gates along a winding path that leads to the full memorial. On each post is a bronze miner’s hat representing one of the miners who was killed.
The hat above honors James Minton, Age 27, survived by his wife Geraldine, and his daughter, Sondra, two years old. He was a veteran, having served in the Army for three years. He performed in musical groups on many occasions. He lived in Manchester.
Honoring Lawrence Gray, Age 30, Survived by his wife Nancy, children, Charlotte, 9, Wade, 7, parents, Ballard and Ollie Gray, three sisters and three brothers. He lived on Elk Creek in Clay County. He worked in the mines at least ten years.
This helmet, honors Howard Couch, Age 34, Survived by his wife Daisy, four children, Phyllis Jean, 10, Berna Dean, 7, Charlene, 5, Eva Carol, 2, and his parents, Will and Elsie Couch. His twin brother, Holt was also killed.
Honoring Theo Griffin, Age 28, Survived by his wife Martha, and daughter, Sandra Carol, 6. He lived on Paces Creek in Clay County. He worked in the mines for four months. His brother-in-law, Jeff Spurlock was also killed.
At the back of the memorial is a long row of plaques with information about each of the miners who died in the explosion.
As you walk along reading the plaques, you see that many last names are repeated. For example, brothers Arnold and Armond Wagers were both killed in the explosion. Another Wagers is listed along with them, but doesn’t include any possible relation.
All in all, 65 children were left without fathers at the end of the day. Thirty-eight families were changed forever.
The most interesting thing about this memorial, besides its size and detail about the men who died, is that it sits at the site of the sealed mine.
The whole time we were at the memorial, we were the only ones there. It was a very serene place to spend some time honoring these men who perished just trying to make a living for their families.
If you get a chance to visit this or other memorials, we encourage you to do so.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Shunpiking To Heaven Backroads Blog
Showing posts with label mining. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mining. Show all posts
Sunday, January 13, 2019
Sunday, April 2, 2017
Do You Have a Chicken in There?
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
Last fall, at the end of September, Ruth and I took a trip to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, with a focus on photographing the remains of the copper mining architecture and equipment from the 1800s and early 1900s. The first day, we photographed our way north, taking our last photographs near Hurley, Wisconsin and then we crossed into Michigan, staying the night in Ironwood. The next morning, at first light, we were in downtown Ironwood to capture a few scenes before heading north. One of the first shots I took was of this old-fashioned bakery.
The best part about this bakery was…..no, not the pastries, which we didn’t sample, but the cat in the window to the right of the door. He was watching every person who walked past or went in or out of the bakery.
Last fall, at the end of September, Ruth and I took a trip to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, with a focus on photographing the remains of the copper mining architecture and equipment from the 1800s and early 1900s. The first day, we photographed our way north, taking our last photographs near Hurley, Wisconsin and then we crossed into Michigan, staying the night in Ironwood. The next morning, at first light, we were in downtown Ironwood to capture a few scenes before heading north. One of the first shots I took was of this old-fashioned bakery.
The best part about this bakery was…..no, not the pastries, which we didn’t sample, but the cat in the window to the right of the door. He was watching every person who walked past or went in or out of the bakery.
After photographing for two or three hours, I said, “Is that it? I hope so because I’m starving.” Ruth then informed me that we still needed to capture a few pictures of the Memorial Building, a Neoclassical building completed in 1923. It houses municipal offices, community facilities, and several veteran memorials. So we drove by the building and pulled onto a quiet side street. Then Ruth said, “Why don’t you get some boiled eggs out of the cooler and I’ll peel them while you photograph the building.”
So I opened the lift gate and started digging around in the cooler for the carton of boiled eggs. When I found it, I took out four eggs and laid them beside the cooler. As I did this, an elderly gentleman strolled past on his morning walk. I nodded Hello and went back to getting breakfast. Suddenly, the man stopped and turned around, asking with a grin, “Do you have a chicken in there?”
I started laughing and then walked toward him, telling him that Ruth and I go on trips to photograph old historical structures. I also told him that we eat all of our meals out of the cooler and that we eat really well – organic fruits and vegetables, and other food that is good for us, and that we never eat in restaurants.
He said, “Good for you. That’s the way to do it!” Then he told me that his parents had driven a Model T Ford from Iron Mountain, Michigan to Seattle, Washington and they didn’t stay in motels or eat in restaurants. Instead, they camped along the way and hunted or fished for their meals. This would have been a trip of over 2,000 miles in the early 1900s, long before there were interstate highways and probably when there were still many dirt roads.
I told him my name and he said his name was John, that he was Swedish, and that he had lived in Ironwood nearly his entire life. Then a nostalgic look of sadness appeared in his face and he said, “Things are just not like they used to be. It’s sad to see the world the way it is now. Ironwood was a nice place to live, and it’s still better than most places, but it’s not as nice as it used to be.”
I asked John about a historical photograph that we had seen in a window in downtown Ironwood earlier that morning. It was a black and white photo of a huge crowd of people in front of the Ironwood Depot, with the US Flag waving above them. He said that Ironwood was such a nice place in those days with community events and picnics held often. He thought that the photo may have been taken at one of those events. According to John, “It was an awesome time and an awesome place to live.” Then he repeated that it made him sad to think about how the world has changed. And then he said, “It’s especially sad for me because I’ve lived through all the changes and I know what it was like in the old days.”
John continued on, saying that he had several children who are now in their 50s and 60s. At one point, they had all moved away, but now he was happy that all of them had returned because of how nice living in Ironwood is compared to other places. Then he told me that he was 91 years old and that he was a World War II veteran. I extended my hand and shook his, saying, “Thank you for serving.” He smiled proudly, and gave me the impression that it was unusual to receive such thanks.
When John returned from the service, he went to Alaska to work in the mining industry there. He stayed for three years and even built his own home there. But Ironwood was calling him back. So he returned and began working in the iron ore mine in Montreal, Wisconsin.
John explained that the Montreal Mine was the deepest iron mine in the world. Every day, he and his fellow miners would pile into a cage and descend over 4,000 feet to mine the iron ore. He worked there for 16 years before the mine closed in 1962. And then he told me that I wouldn’t believe what it was like down there in the depths of the mine.
Knowing what I know about mining and thinking about what I’d seen in the movies, I knew that miners worked in dirty, dangerous jobs. Therefore, what John said next took me totally by surprise. Instead of telling me about the poor working conditions, he said that, every day, he would find crystals among the iron ore. He would stuff them into his pockets and then transfer them to his empty lunch bucket after lunch.
Every day, John went home with his lunch bucket full of crystals. I asked him what kind of crystals they were and he said that there was every kind of mineral down in the mine. Then I asked if all the men were taking crystals home. He said that most of them didn’t because they were more interested in producing as much iron ore as possible. The whole team was paid by how much iron ore they could collectively bring out of the mine. So John had to make sure he was pulling his weight and mining as much iron as the other men on the team. And because he did do his share, the other men would often give him the crystals they found.
I then said to John, “So, I’m assuming that your boss didn’t know that you were taking these crystals home every day. He said that the “big bosses” didn’t know he was finding and taking crystals. If they had known, they might have stopped him. Then John told me that, one day, he discovered a huge bunch of crystals. And with a look of wonder on his face, he said, “It was like looking at a palace.”
John’s immediate boss was with him when he made the discovery, so he asked his boss, “What should we do?” His boss said that they should get some boxes and haul the crystals up in the cage. So they worked together to do that and when they got the boxes of crystals up to the surface, they hid them. Then they returned to the mine and worked extra hard to make sure they were producing enough iron ore for the day.
John continued to collect crystals during the 16 years he worked in the Montreal Mine. And after the mine closed, he continued to look for crystals in the piles of “junk” iron ore that the company had discarded. Some years later, he opened a rock shop to sell all the crystals that he had collected, which he ran for 10 years. He said that he made his living and supported his family with the crystals that he sold in the rock shop.
One day, a very rich man contacted John and bought some of his best crystals that he then took to the annual rock and crystal show in Texas, where they won “best of show.” John said that there is a book about crystals that sells for around $250 and he is mentioned many times in this book for the crystals that he collected from the mine. In researching for this story, I tried to find information about this book, but came up empty-handed. However, I did find on a website by the Hudson Institute of Mineralogy several beautiful crystals in private collections that came from the Montreal Mine in the early 1960s.
I asked John one more time what kind of crystals he sold in the rock shop. He replied, “I never learned all the names of the crystals….I was just selling beauty!” And with that, I could see he was eager to finish his walk, so I thanked him for the delightful conversation and we both went on our way. That wonderful conversation made the whole trip worthwhile and as I walked back to the car, I was so hungry, I could have eaten a horse. But before I could enjoy the boiled eggs “from the chicken we had in the back of the car,” I knew I had to dictate notes about everything John had told me to prevent the details from slipping away before I would get around to writing this story.
Note: Most of the photos of crystals in this blog post are probably not the kind that John would have collected from the Montreal Mine, but were used just to portray the feelings John shared about the beauty of all the different crystals he discovered, collected, and later sold in his rock shop. And my thanks go out to Burnie’s Rock Shop in Madison, Wisconsin for allowing me to photograph a few of the rough crystals they have for sale.
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Saturday, December 6, 2014
A Salute to Miners Everywhere
By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
December 6 is National Miner’s Day. It is a day to celebrate miners and remember those who lost their lives in mining activities in our country. We don’t often stop to think about where all of our creature comforts and electronic gadgets come from, but most of it would not exist if it weren’t for miners across the country.
In the middle of the small unincorporated town of Baxter, Kentucky stands a coal miners monument. The monument was constructed in the 1950s out of coal taken from thirty different coal mines that were operating at that time.
It is fitting that December 6 is Miners Day, as it is the anniversary of the worst industrial accident in our nation’s history. It was the Monongah Disaster which occurred in the Fairmont Coal Company’s No. 6 and No. 8 mines near Monongah, West Virginia on December 6, 1907. In that single disaster, 367 miners were lost.
West Virginia led the push for National Miner’s day and the resolution was passed on December 3, 2009.
Thank you miners everywhere!
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
December 6 is National Miner’s Day. It is a day to celebrate miners and remember those who lost their lives in mining activities in our country. We don’t often stop to think about where all of our creature comforts and electronic gadgets come from, but most of it would not exist if it weren’t for miners across the country.
In the middle of the small unincorporated town of Baxter, Kentucky stands a coal miners monument. The monument was constructed in the 1950s out of coal taken from thirty different coal mines that were operating at that time.
It is fitting that December 6 is Miners Day, as it is the anniversary of the worst industrial accident in our nation’s history. It was the Monongah Disaster which occurred in the Fairmont Coal Company’s No. 6 and No. 8 mines near Monongah, West Virginia on December 6, 1907. In that single disaster, 367 miners were lost.
West Virginia led the push for National Miner’s day and the resolution was passed on December 3, 2009.
Thank you miners everywhere!
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Remembering the Cherry Mine Disaster
By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
When you think of coal mining, the state of Illinois is probably not the first state to come to mind. But one of the worst mining disasters in U.S. history actually occurred at the Cherry Mine in northern Illinois on November 13, 1909.
At 7:00 A.M. that fateful morning, there were 481 men and boys in the mine. For most of these European immigrants, it was their first job in the new world. The town of Cherry had a population of 2,000 and, in one way or another, everyone’s life was connected to the St. Paul Coal Company, the only industry in town.
The mine was 500 feet beneath the town and included a stable for the mules used in hauling the coal. When hay was sent down for the mules that day, it was left beneath one of the torches strung throughout the mine. The hay ignited and soon the timbers and the coal vein itself were on fire. The burning coal produced a thick black smoke called black damp.
The only method of communication between the miners was man to man, so it took too long for the message to spread that the mine should be abandoned. Some men made it out of the mine, but almost 300 men were trapped.
Some miners were rescued that first day before the elevator also caught fire killing all of the rescuers in the cage. After this, there was no hope of rescue as the fire burned. The mine officials had lumber and sand thrown over the blocked exits to try to extinguish the fire, and fire crews from Chicago were called. They poured tons of water into the shaft.
Eight long days later a rescue party descended into the mine. They found only 25 miners alive. These men were given emergency medical treatment and then a ride home to their families. One old miner wanted to walk home and was found dead in his bed two days later. He is considered the 259th death from the accident.
Serious exhumations of the victims in the mine began in the spring of 1910. Long rows of bodies were laid under white tents as they were identified. Then, horse-drawn hearses carried the caskets to the Cherry graveyard just south of town.
Joann and I first visited the Cherry Miner’s Cemetery in April of 2013. It was sobering to see the rows of gravestones all with the same date of death. We were amazed that the town had survived after the tragedy.
Before our trip in the spring of this year, I came upon more history of the mine and found that the gob piles (the waste of the mining process) were still there just north of town along with a building or two that had been incorporated into a farm.
In downtown Cherry, there is a memorial to the miners who lost their lives in the disaster. It includes an etching of the mine as it looked at the time, and the names of the miners lost.
In 1910, the Illinois legislature established stronger fire and safety regulations for mines, and a year later the state adopted a liability act which later became the Illinois Worker’s Compensation Act.
You never know what history lies just down the road in your travels. Some good, some bad, but all of it shaped our country.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
When you think of coal mining, the state of Illinois is probably not the first state to come to mind. But one of the worst mining disasters in U.S. history actually occurred at the Cherry Mine in northern Illinois on November 13, 1909.
At 7:00 A.M. that fateful morning, there were 481 men and boys in the mine. For most of these European immigrants, it was their first job in the new world. The town of Cherry had a population of 2,000 and, in one way or another, everyone’s life was connected to the St. Paul Coal Company, the only industry in town.
The mine was 500 feet beneath the town and included a stable for the mules used in hauling the coal. When hay was sent down for the mules that day, it was left beneath one of the torches strung throughout the mine. The hay ignited and soon the timbers and the coal vein itself were on fire. The burning coal produced a thick black smoke called black damp.
The only method of communication between the miners was man to man, so it took too long for the message to spread that the mine should be abandoned. Some men made it out of the mine, but almost 300 men were trapped.
Some miners were rescued that first day before the elevator also caught fire killing all of the rescuers in the cage. After this, there was no hope of rescue as the fire burned. The mine officials had lumber and sand thrown over the blocked exits to try to extinguish the fire, and fire crews from Chicago were called. They poured tons of water into the shaft.
Eight long days later a rescue party descended into the mine. They found only 25 miners alive. These men were given emergency medical treatment and then a ride home to their families. One old miner wanted to walk home and was found dead in his bed two days later. He is considered the 259th death from the accident.
Serious exhumations of the victims in the mine began in the spring of 1910. Long rows of bodies were laid under white tents as they were identified. Then, horse-drawn hearses carried the caskets to the Cherry graveyard just south of town.
Joann and I first visited the Cherry Miner’s Cemetery in April of 2013. It was sobering to see the rows of gravestones all with the same date of death. We were amazed that the town had survived after the tragedy.
Before our trip in the spring of this year, I came upon more history of the mine and found that the gob piles (the waste of the mining process) were still there just north of town along with a building or two that had been incorporated into a farm.
In downtown Cherry, there is a memorial to the miners who lost their lives in the disaster. It includes an etching of the mine as it looked at the time, and the names of the miners lost.
In 1910, the Illinois legislature established stronger fire and safety regulations for mines, and a year later the state adopted a liability act which later became the Illinois Worker’s Compensation Act.
You never know what history lies just down the road in your travels. Some good, some bad, but all of it shaped our country.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Glen Jean and the Whipple Company Store
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
“You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt.
Saint Peter, don’t you call me, ‘cause I can’t go;
I owe my soul to the company store.”
In 1955, deep-voiced Tennessee Ernie Ford recorded the number one hit “Sixteen Tons,” a song about the hard life of a coal miner. West Virginia has a rich coal mining history and our West Virginia travels this past spring took us through the mountainous terrain of Fayette County, a traditional coal mining region.
We spent less than 24 hours in West Virginia, but we made the best of our short time there. After photographing the Glade Creek Grist Mill at first light (see our blog post dated May 9, 2010), Ruth said she had a surprise in store for me. On the way to this “surprise,” we stopped in the town of Glen Jean, which at one time was centered on the coal and railroad industries. Once the coal boom ended, the town began to fade away.
The only significant building remaining is the former Bank of Glen Jean, which is on the National Register of Historic Places. This bank was built in 1909 by William McKell, who owned one of the largest coal companies in the area and also a railway company that transported coal. The Bank of Glen Jean ceased operations in 1939 following the death of William McKell.
After eating our breakfast in front of this historic building, Ruth navigated us to an old Appalachian coal mining ghost town called Thurmond, which we will tell you about in a future post. After spending a couple of hours there, we headed to the unincorporated town of Whipple, which was also a coal town during the first half of the 20th century.
This was our first visit to a coal mining region, so we had never photographed any coal-related architecture before. When we pulled up in front of the Whipple Company Store, I was thrilled to see such an unusual building. In 1890, coal baron Justus Collins built this magnificent building and three others just like it. Today, the Whipple Company Store is the only one still standing.
As I was setting up my tripod across the road from the Whipple Company Store, which is also the home of the Appalachian Heritage Museum, a woman came over with a welcoming smile and introduced herself as Joy Lynn. She told me that she grew up in the area and had dreamed of owning the Company Store ever since she was a little girl. In 2006, her dream came true when she and her husband, Charles, purchased the building, which was in danger of being demolished.
When coal companies opened mines in an area, they built coal camps so that miners and their families had places to live near the mines. The coal companies owned the entire town and the company store served most of the needs of the mining families. Mine workers were paid in scrip, which was a type of money produced by the coal companies. It could only be used at the company store where prices were higher than at stores outside of the coal camps. Because of this, as time went on, families became deeper and deeper in debt to the coal company.
The Whipple Company Store is a fascinating place. It has a hand-operated freight elevator, a post office, a secret second floor, a hidden safe, and a third floor ballroom. According to Joy, the Company Store “sold everything from candy to caskets” and many bodies were embalmed in a mortuary in the basement. According to some accounts, the place is frequented by the ghosts of West Virginia coal miners. If you’re interested in learning more about this unique place, visit the Whipple Company Store website.
We’d like to thank Joy and Charles Lynn for their heart-warming hospitality in showing us the wonders of the Whipple Company Store. As Tennessee Ernie Ford used to say, "Bless your pea-pickin' heart!" and as we always say, Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
“You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt.
Saint Peter, don’t you call me, ‘cause I can’t go;
I owe my soul to the company store.”
In 1955, deep-voiced Tennessee Ernie Ford recorded the number one hit “Sixteen Tons,” a song about the hard life of a coal miner. West Virginia has a rich coal mining history and our West Virginia travels this past spring took us through the mountainous terrain of Fayette County, a traditional coal mining region.
We spent less than 24 hours in West Virginia, but we made the best of our short time there. After photographing the Glade Creek Grist Mill at first light (see our blog post dated May 9, 2010), Ruth said she had a surprise in store for me. On the way to this “surprise,” we stopped in the town of Glen Jean, which at one time was centered on the coal and railroad industries. Once the coal boom ended, the town began to fade away.
The only significant building remaining is the former Bank of Glen Jean, which is on the National Register of Historic Places. This bank was built in 1909 by William McKell, who owned one of the largest coal companies in the area and also a railway company that transported coal. The Bank of Glen Jean ceased operations in 1939 following the death of William McKell.
After eating our breakfast in front of this historic building, Ruth navigated us to an old Appalachian coal mining ghost town called Thurmond, which we will tell you about in a future post. After spending a couple of hours there, we headed to the unincorporated town of Whipple, which was also a coal town during the first half of the 20th century.
This was our first visit to a coal mining region, so we had never photographed any coal-related architecture before. When we pulled up in front of the Whipple Company Store, I was thrilled to see such an unusual building. In 1890, coal baron Justus Collins built this magnificent building and three others just like it. Today, the Whipple Company Store is the only one still standing.
As I was setting up my tripod across the road from the Whipple Company Store, which is also the home of the Appalachian Heritage Museum, a woman came over with a welcoming smile and introduced herself as Joy Lynn. She told me that she grew up in the area and had dreamed of owning the Company Store ever since she was a little girl. In 2006, her dream came true when she and her husband, Charles, purchased the building, which was in danger of being demolished.
When coal companies opened mines in an area, they built coal camps so that miners and their families had places to live near the mines. The coal companies owned the entire town and the company store served most of the needs of the mining families. Mine workers were paid in scrip, which was a type of money produced by the coal companies. It could only be used at the company store where prices were higher than at stores outside of the coal camps. Because of this, as time went on, families became deeper and deeper in debt to the coal company.
The Whipple Company Store is a fascinating place. It has a hand-operated freight elevator, a post office, a secret second floor, a hidden safe, and a third floor ballroom. According to Joy, the Company Store “sold everything from candy to caskets” and many bodies were embalmed in a mortuary in the basement. According to some accounts, the place is frequented by the ghosts of West Virginia coal miners. If you’re interested in learning more about this unique place, visit the Whipple Company Store website.
We’d like to thank Joy and Charles Lynn for their heart-warming hospitality in showing us the wonders of the Whipple Company Store. As Tennessee Ernie Ford used to say, "Bless your pea-pickin' heart!" and as we always say, Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
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