15 April 2010
READ: WVRockScene Blog
12 April 2010
DOWNLOAD: The Heptanes - Phantom Cadillac
For fans of: New Duncan Imperials, Reverend Horton Heat, Southern Culture on the Skids.
DOWNLOAD: The Heptanes - Phantom Cadillac.
08 April 2010
READ: Michael Shnayerson - Coal River
WATCH: Sarah Ogan Gunning - Come All Ye Coal Miners
07 April 2010
LISTEN: Hazel Dickens - Coal Miner's Grave
06 April 2010
READ: Denise Giardina - Mourn the Mountains
Mourning in the Mountains
Charleston, W.Va.
PEOPLE in West Virginia had hoped that on Monday night we would gather around televisions with family and friends to watch our beloved Mountaineers face Butler in our first chance at the men’s N.C.A.A. basketball title since 1959. Men working evening shifts in the coal mines would get to listen thanks to radio coverage piped in from the surface. Expectations ran high; even President Obama, surveying the Final Four, predicted West Virginia would win.
Then, on Tuesday morning, we would wake to triumphant headlines in sports pages across the country. At last, we would say, something good has happened to West Virginia. The whole nation would see us in a new light. And we would cry.
Instead, halfway through Saturday night’s semifinal against Duke, our star forward, Da’Sean Butler, tore a ligament in his knee, and the Mountaineers crumbled. And on Monday evening, while Duke and Butler played in what for us was now merely a game, West Virginians gathered around televisions to watch news of a coal mine disaster.
On Tuesday, the headline in The Charleston Gazette read instead: Miners Dead, Missing in Raleigh Explosion. And we cried.
Despite the sunny skies and unseasonably warm weather, the mood here in southern West Virginia is subdued. As of Tuesday afternoon, 25 men have been confirmed dead, two are critically injured, and four are missing and presumed dead. Their fellow West Virginians work round the clock and risk their own lives to retrieve the bodies.
Already outrage is focused on Massey Energy, owner of the Upper Big Branch mine. Massey has a history of negligence, and Upper Big Branch has often been cited in recent years for problems, including failure to properly vent methane gas, which officials say might have been the cause of Monday’s explosion.
It seems we can’t escape our heritage. I grew up in a coal camp in the southern part of the state. Every day my school bus drove past a sign posted by the local coal company keeping tally, like a basketball scoreboard, of “man hours” lost to accidents. From time to time classmates whose fathers had been killed or maimed would disappear, their families gone elsewhere to seek work.
We knew then, and know now, that we are a national sacrifice area. We mine coal despite the danger to miners, the damage to the environment and the monomaniacal control of an industry that keeps economic diversity from flourishing here. We do it because America says it needs the coal we provide.
West Virginians get little thanks in return. Our miners have historically received little protection, and our politicians remain subservient to Big Coal. Meanwhile, West Virginia is either ignored by the rest of the nation or is the butt of jokes about ignorant hillbillies.
Here in West Virginia we will forget our fleeting dream of basketball glory and get about the business of mourning. It is, after all, something we do very well. In the area around the Upper Big Branch, families of the dead will gather in churches and their neighbors will come to pray with them. They will go home, and the same neighbors will show up bearing platters of fried chicken and potato salad and cakes. The funeral homes will be jammed, the mourners in their best suits and ties and Sunday dresses.
And perhaps this time President Obama and Americans will pay attention, and notice West Virginia at last.
Denise Giardina is the writer-in-residence at West Virginia State University.
WATCH: Mine War on Blackberry Creek
WATCH: Jean Ritchie - West Virginia Mine Disaster
© Jean Ritchie, Geordie Music Publishing
Oh Say, did you see him; it was early this morning.
He passed by your houses on his way to the coal.
He was tall, he was slender, and his dark eyes so tender
His occupation was mining, West Virginia his home
It was just before noon, I was feeding the children,
Ben Moseley came running to give us the news.
Number eight was all flooded, many men were in danger
And we don't know their number, but we fear they're all doomed
I picked up the baby and I left all the others
To comfort each other and to pray for their own
There's Tommy, fourteen, and there's John not much younger
And their time soon is coming to go down the dark hole
What will I say to his poor little children?
And what will I tell his dear mother at home?
And it's what will I say to my heart that's clear broken?
To my heart that's clear broken if my darling is gone
If I had the money to do more than just feed them
I'd give them good learning, the best could be found
So when they growed up they'd be checkers and weighers
And not spend their whole life in the dark underground
Oh say, did you see him; it was early this morning.
He passed by your houses on his way to the coal
He was tall, he was slender, and his dark eyes so tender
His occupation was mining, West Virginia his home.