My grandfather, before he was my grandfather, caught a steamer from Scotland to America when he was 14 years old. After making his way through Ellis Island, relatives in Pennsylvania got him a job in the coal mines of Scranton. When I was just a wee lad, he would regale me with stories of what a miner’s life was like. In those days, they went into the dark caves with oil lamps attached to their hard hats lighting the way, carrying their lunches and a caged parakeet. If the bird suddenly died, the miner’s knew that there was a gas leak and quickly got out of there. They also used to share their lunches with the rats that lived in the deep caverns for if the rodents suddenly started running out of the mine, a collapse was imminent.
The life of a miner is and always has been a hard and dangerous one. My heart goes out to the families of West Virginia who lost their loved ones in this tragedy. Sgt Hook out.
Posted by Hook @ 1506 zulu | | Permalink
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