Monday, October 25, 2010
DON'T GO TO THE MINES
As we have been observing the plight of the Chilean miners trapped far beneath the earth for weeks, we recall from Oklahoma history and family lore the historical vicissitudes of miners in our own state. Fortunately, those Chilean miners had a safe haven, communications were soon established, and supplies were funneled to them. Happily, all were eventually extracted and brought safely up from the depths into the waiting arms of their families.
Oklahoma’s historical experience with mining disasters, while replete with a few miraculous escapes and a couple of instances of heroic rescues, has not been nearly so positive. We have had terrible tragedies. Witness the once-popular ballad of the plaintive coal miner’s daughter, the lyrics of which are shown as follows:
MINER’S CHILD’S DREAM
A miner was leaving his home for his work
When he heard his little child scream;
He ran to the side of the little girl’s bed
She said, “Daddy, I have had such a dream.”
Chorus: “Oh, Daddy, don’t go to the mines today,
For dreams have so often come true.
Oh Daddy, oh Daddy, please don’t go away,
For I never could live without you.”
I dreamed that the mine was all covered with fire,
The men all fought for their lives;
Then the scene changed, and the mouth of the mine
Was covered with sweethearts and wives.
The miner was stroking his little girl’s face,
And was turning away from her side,
When she threw her small arms around her daddy’s neck,
She gave him a kiss and she cried ….. (chorus)
“Go down to the village and tell your dear friends
That as sure as the bright stars do shine,
There is something that’s going to happen today;
Oh, Daddy, don’t go to the mine.” ….. (chorus)
Thought by some to have been written in commemoration of the Wilburton mine explosion in 1926, the year of this writer’s birth, this tune is actually a folk song adapted from Victorian England. It was sung to him often as a child by his mother, usually producing tears. After a time in the midst of the rural coal fields of western Arkansas, the site of that horrible tragedy would ultimately become his own hometown in early 1939. Perhaps the worst of Oklahoma coal mine disasters, the Wilburton explosion entombed 105 men forever in the bowels of the earth.
It may be surprising to some that in eastern Oklahoma, formerly the Indian Territory, there have been some 500 men lost in coal mine disasters. It is no surprise to our friend and former governor, George Nigh, who grew up in McAlester, taught history there, and represented that area in the Oklahoma legislature. He tells me of his surprise at encountering in an unexpected place a picture of his own mother serving meals to distressed miner families. Neither have any of these incidents escaped the attention of our friend and celebrated Oklahoma journalist, Frosty Troy, also of McAlester.
Explosions around McAlester include: 2 killed in 1905; 30 lost in 1908; and 30 killed in 1930. Nearby in Krebs 100 were killed or entombed in 1892 when a mine exploded with 400 miners working underground, a rival for the worst such disaster. Close by in Alderson 12 died in 1919, and 10 at Dow in 1902. In 1908 Haileyville lost 29 miners, with newspapers noting that some were “foreigners.”
Wilburton had lost 13 miners earlier in 1905, and a nearby Lutie mine lost 13 killed and 17 trapped in 1930. In all, 17 coal mine accidents have been documented for the eastern Oklahoma fields. Numbers cited here are mostly from contemporaneous newspapers, hence may not be official or final.
While these are mere statistics to most, they are family lore to others. Before I was born, my father spent short stints in the Arkansas coal fields and at Picher, Oklahoma. My father-in-law spent time in the mines. I attended school with miner’s children, and spent time in their homes. We played with carbide miners’ cap lights. We saw fathers come home with blackened bodies and dark, gritty overalls. It was always easy to recognize a miner, even on Sunday.
A few schoolmates were orphans from mining accidents, and some had relatives killed or injured. A number of my classmates were the sons and daughters of immigrants who came there to work in the coal mines. Most were Italian, but there were some from Poland, Lithuania, Russia, Germany, Slavic region, or elsewhere.
In the thirties it seemed that there were three main causes of disabled and maimed men – World War I, farming accidents, and mining injuries. When miners worked free of injury, there might later be “black lung” – not properly recognized or understood. Of course, there was neither workers compensation nor Social Security disability provisions in those times. Men and their families had to live with the personal consequences of their work injuries. Survival was made even more difficult by the dark times of the Great Depression.
No one rejoices more at the good fortune of those who escape from traps in the dark depths of the mines of doom than do those who grew up in communities in a culture shared with mining and its concomitants.
Dr. Edwin E. Vineyard, AKA The Militant Moderate
Oklahoma’s historical experience with mining disasters, while replete with a few miraculous escapes and a couple of instances of heroic rescues, has not been nearly so positive. We have had terrible tragedies. Witness the once-popular ballad of the plaintive coal miner’s daughter, the lyrics of which are shown as follows:
MINER’S CHILD’S DREAM
A miner was leaving his home for his work
When he heard his little child scream;
He ran to the side of the little girl’s bed
She said, “Daddy, I have had such a dream.”
Chorus: “Oh, Daddy, don’t go to the mines today,
For dreams have so often come true.
Oh Daddy, oh Daddy, please don’t go away,
For I never could live without you.”
I dreamed that the mine was all covered with fire,
The men all fought for their lives;
Then the scene changed, and the mouth of the mine
Was covered with sweethearts and wives.
The miner was stroking his little girl’s face,
And was turning away from her side,
When she threw her small arms around her daddy’s neck,
She gave him a kiss and she cried ….. (chorus)
“Go down to the village and tell your dear friends
That as sure as the bright stars do shine,
There is something that’s going to happen today;
Oh, Daddy, don’t go to the mine.” ….. (chorus)
Thought by some to have been written in commemoration of the Wilburton mine explosion in 1926, the year of this writer’s birth, this tune is actually a folk song adapted from Victorian England. It was sung to him often as a child by his mother, usually producing tears. After a time in the midst of the rural coal fields of western Arkansas, the site of that horrible tragedy would ultimately become his own hometown in early 1939. Perhaps the worst of Oklahoma coal mine disasters, the Wilburton explosion entombed 105 men forever in the bowels of the earth.
It may be surprising to some that in eastern Oklahoma, formerly the Indian Territory, there have been some 500 men lost in coal mine disasters. It is no surprise to our friend and former governor, George Nigh, who grew up in McAlester, taught history there, and represented that area in the Oklahoma legislature. He tells me of his surprise at encountering in an unexpected place a picture of his own mother serving meals to distressed miner families. Neither have any of these incidents escaped the attention of our friend and celebrated Oklahoma journalist, Frosty Troy, also of McAlester.
Explosions around McAlester include: 2 killed in 1905; 30 lost in 1908; and 30 killed in 1930. Nearby in Krebs 100 were killed or entombed in 1892 when a mine exploded with 400 miners working underground, a rival for the worst such disaster. Close by in Alderson 12 died in 1919, and 10 at Dow in 1902. In 1908 Haileyville lost 29 miners, with newspapers noting that some were “foreigners.”
Wilburton had lost 13 miners earlier in 1905, and a nearby Lutie mine lost 13 killed and 17 trapped in 1930. In all, 17 coal mine accidents have been documented for the eastern Oklahoma fields. Numbers cited here are mostly from contemporaneous newspapers, hence may not be official or final.
While these are mere statistics to most, they are family lore to others. Before I was born, my father spent short stints in the Arkansas coal fields and at Picher, Oklahoma. My father-in-law spent time in the mines. I attended school with miner’s children, and spent time in their homes. We played with carbide miners’ cap lights. We saw fathers come home with blackened bodies and dark, gritty overalls. It was always easy to recognize a miner, even on Sunday.
A few schoolmates were orphans from mining accidents, and some had relatives killed or injured. A number of my classmates were the sons and daughters of immigrants who came there to work in the coal mines. Most were Italian, but there were some from Poland, Lithuania, Russia, Germany, Slavic region, or elsewhere.
In the thirties it seemed that there were three main causes of disabled and maimed men – World War I, farming accidents, and mining injuries. When miners worked free of injury, there might later be “black lung” – not properly recognized or understood. Of course, there was neither workers compensation nor Social Security disability provisions in those times. Men and their families had to live with the personal consequences of their work injuries. Survival was made even more difficult by the dark times of the Great Depression.
No one rejoices more at the good fortune of those who escape from traps in the dark depths of the mines of doom than do those who grew up in communities in a culture shared with mining and its concomitants.
Dr. Edwin E. Vineyard, AKA The Militant Moderate
