A Coal Miner's Daughter Remembers

by
Nora Bell (Blan) Stanley
Last week (Jan. 2, 2006), along with millions of others, I watched on TV as families waited for news of their coal miner loved ones trapped deep in a West Virginia mine. After 40 hours of hope and prayer for the miners' safety, and some miscommunication, the families learned that only one miner had survived.

Thinking of this coal mine tragedy brought back memories of my own family - mother, eight of us kids and my coal mining daddy, Kenneth Blan. And I thought of dad's two almost fatal mining accidents.

I lived with my family on the LeFlore-Haskell County line about five miles from McCurtain, where we kids went to school. The coal mine was about two miles west of town.

Daddy started working in the mines at 15, because grandpa signed for him. For most of his life my dad never did any other kind of work, except for short stints when the miners were on strike.

When John L. Lewis, president of the United Mine Workers, called on the miners to strike, they did. I knew more about John L. Lewis than I did about the president of the United States. A big framed picture of Mr. Lewis was prominently placed on our front room wall, held there by a straight pin.

Early every morning during the winter months, daddy got up and built a fire in the coal stove so that it would be warm when we kids got ready for school. I was awakened often by his long, harsh coughing, probably brought on by coal dust in his lungs. But I guess I never thought much about him building a fire for us. That is what daddy always did.

Daddy had already left for work by the time I got up. When he came home from the mines, he walked through the front room, into the kitchen and set his dinner bucket on the floor. Often during the summer months, daddy went out the back door to walk in our vegetable garden and down the long rows of corn in the field. I guess daddy welcomed the fresh air after been cooped up in the dark mine all day.

I kept my eyes on the dinner bucket, because sometimes there was a surprise in it for me - a banana flip filled with creamy white icing which daddy would leave in his dinner bucket. Neither daddy nor I talked about the banana flips. He knew that I would be washing the supper dishes along with his bucket, and would find the treat. After washing the dishes, I hid and secretly ate the cake.

One time when I was in the first grade, mother and I were at the local hardware store. I saw a little doll with a pink dress, a straw hat and little black shoes. I begged mother to buy it for me but she said we couldn't afford it.

A few days later after my trip to the hardware store, daddy came through the kitchen and put a small box on top of the cabinet. It was a little box wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. I looked at that box for days. I knew exactly what it was. And when Christmas came and do you know what I got for Christmas!

Daddy always came home after working all day in the mines. He always did and I never thought that he wouldn't.

Then one day during my fifth grade morning recess, some of us kids saw a long black car go out toward the mines. In those days the funeral home car was used for ambulance service. We wondered what had happened, but went on without activities and I forgot about it.

At noon I walked to Van Mitchell's Grocery Store to get my regular lunch. I would get a half slice of bologna with crackers for five cents then 10 cents would buy a coke and ice cream cone at the drug store across the street. It was always, "Put it on daddy's bill."

On payday daddy took his check to Mr. Mitchell to pay for our groceries and get whatever money was left over.

That day my dad's cousin, who worked for Mr. Mitchell called me over and asked, "Did you know your daddy got hurt in the mines today? He's in the hospital in Fort Smith."

A large rock had fallen on daddy's leg and crushed it. Weeks and months went by as daddy recovered from the mining accident. He took medicine to fight off infection, but had to return to the hospital because of the threat of leg amputation.

We went through a cold winter in our little four room house. Daddy lay on the couch most of the time. My oldest brother, who had been in a near fatal car wreck, had a cast almost from head to toe and lay in a hospital bed in another corner of the front room. We survived on $25 a week and it did not seem like hundreds in those days either!

Finally, daddy recovered and went back into the mines. By then I was about 14 years old, and had learned that coal miners don't always come home at supper time.

Our family rocked along as we had before. Brothers graduated, moved away from home, and the younger kids started to school. It was once said that one Blan kid graduates and a new one gets on the school bus!

But our world was about to be shaken again.

One summer afternoon mother was listening to the radio program "Bride and groom."

Then the program was interrupted, "A fire in a coal mine in Haskell County is burning out of control. No word has been heard of casualties or how long before the fire can be put out. The mine is owned by Lone Star Steel Company."

Mother turned to us kids and said something like, "That sounds like your daddy's mine."

She sent one of us over to neighbor's house about a quarter of a mile away to see if they heard anything, they had not.

We had no way to go to town. The afternoon dragged on and the long minutes ran into even longer hours. We kids went out in the road to look for daddy's car coming down the road, but there was no sign of him.

"Did you see him?" mother asked each time we went back in the house.

Finally, we saw daddy's car coming down the road, and daddy was driving it!

He came into the house like he always did, except his dinner bucket was missing. He went into the kitchen without saying a word. Mother was right behind him and so were we.

"Did anything happen at the mine today?" she asked.

"It sure did!" daddy said. "The mine is on fire and we lost two men."

Then he told us what happened. Several coal cars had wrecked close to the entrance of the mine and started a fire. Two men where killed in the wreck, but most of the other men where able to get out before fire and smoke filled the mine.

Daddy and seven men where farther down in the mine checking for dangerous gas. As a fire boss part of my dad's job was to check for such gas and mark areas where men were not to enter.

As the mine started filling with smoke, the men could hardly breathe. They had decided to get in an area and barricade themselves against the smoke. After several hours my dad and crew figured that they would never be found. So the decision was made to run for the air shaft. The tunnel to the air shaft ran from the entrance of the mine and under the highway. It was a long way to go but they knew it was their only chance.

Just about the time the miners were almost overcome with smoke, someone outside at the air shaft decided to reverse the fan instead of trying to pull the smoke out of the mine, the fan was reversed to blow fresh air into the tunnel. Meeting the fresh air as they ran, daddy and his men reached the air shaft to safety.

The mine was sealed to try to stop the fire, but each time the mine was unsealed, fire broke out again. Finally, mine owners decided not to reopen the mine. Today my dad's near death trap remains sealed under a thick concrete slab.

My dad began working near McAlester in a coal mine with such low ceilings that he had to crawl to do his work. There was not even enough room to stand. Later after that mine played out, daddy went to work driving a county truck.

I think we were all relieved when he hung up his coal miner dinner bucket.

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NOTE: The referenced TV news event was of the mine disaster which occurred on Jan. 2, 2006, in Sago, West Virginia, USA. The blast and collapse in the mine trapped 13 miners for nearly two days; one miner survived.

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