99 Souls

by Thomas Malafarina

  Elizabeth decided that she needed to hear what he had to say. At best, it might help add some local color to her story and at worst; it would be an additional story for her book.

  “Yes, I'll listen to you, Willie”, she said. Elizabeth turned to Jason and asked, “Jason, is my tape recorder still in the back of the truck?”

  “Yeah, Boss.” he replied, “Complete with a bunch of fresh reels. But shouldn’t we be getting ready to head back soon?”

  She told him, “Don’t worry, Jason, this won’t take very long. And hopefully it will be worth the time.”

  Elizabeth turned to Willie and said, “So Willie. Are you still game? Are you ready to tell me your story?”

  Willie suddenly became very serious. He wanted to tell his story for a long time, he needed to tell his story but he knew that doing so would be unpleasant for him.

  He said, “Yes. I am ready. But, you ought to know first off that telling you this story is not going to be enjoyable for either of us. And it might cause you quite a few sleepless nights long after that.”

  “Well, I'm willing to take that risk,” Elizabeth replied. “Okay then, let’s get on with this.”

  She said to Jason who had returned after setting up the recorder in the news truck, “Can you leave Willie and I alone for while?”

  Jason gave her a concerned look. “Don’t you want to get this on film?”

  She thought about it and said. “We’d better not. This likely will end up being something that we may not be able to use in the story, and you know how cheap the boss is. If he catches us wasting video tape, he will have a fit.

  Then Jason asked her, “What about you being alone with that crazy old coot?”

  “Don't worry,” She replied, “I am sure we will be fine. If it will make you feel better you can hang around the news van and listen for any trouble”

  Jason took his camera and started to walk away saying, “I suppose you can take care of yourself. While you are talking to him, I will go and get some more local comments and maybe some more shots of the area.”

  “Thanks, Jason”, she replied, “I owe you one.”

  Then she turned to Willie gently and guided him by the arm, “Now Willie, please come back with me to our news van. I have the tape recorder there. Do you mind if I record our session?”

  Willie agreed, “Not at all, Ma'am, but I hope you have lots of space on that there recorder of yours because this is some story I have to tell.”

  At the plateau near the mine, Chief Seiler had returned to his observation perch, watching the exchange between Willie and Elizabeth. He stood displeased, watching them walk to the news van.

  The van was a typical 1960’s windowless 'Step Van" style utility truck. It had a high bay utility area in the back so that lots of equipment could be stored out of sight with easy access from a pair of rear doors. It had the markings and logo of the TV station painted on the side. The windows to the driver’s area were open and the rear doors were standing ajar.

  Elizabeth sat with her back to the open rear doors and Willie sat across from her at a pull down utility counter that the station had retrofitted. His hands were clenching and unclenching in front of him as he wore a look of great trepidation.

  Elizabeth slowly pressed the record button on her reel-to-reel tape recorder, as Willie watched the reels turn. She moved the microphone which was mounted on a plastic stand, to the center of the counter between them and began, ”Okay Willie. You have a story to tell. Let's hear what all this fuss is about.”

  Willie squirmed, and looked toward the open back door of the van. At first, he seemed to be unsure if he could actually do it, then he realized that it was now or never.

  Willie said to Elizabeth, “It's been a while since I last told this story and it still makes me feel sick whenever I do, but here goes nothing. This story actually starts way back in the spring of 1885. Right here at this very mine…”

  Chapter 9

  Willie said to Elizabeth, “Way back in 1885, this here mine was very busy indeed. In fact, most folks around here who were lucky enough to have a job, either worked right here or in one of Coogan's other mines.

  “My Daddy worked as a full-time coal miner and safety inspector. Although I got to say the word 'safety' was used pretty loosely around the mining industry in those days. There were plenty of reported deaths caused by mine accidents but very few reported injuries.

  “This was because if you got hurt, you didn't complain or file any report or anything like that. You pretty much just shut your mouth and went back to work as you were able. Times were tough and for the most part, if you didn't work in one of Coogan's mines you just didn't work. If you were hurt back in those days, there was no social security or workman’s comp or anything like that. If you were out of commission, you were out of a job.”

  1885 – At Coogan’s Mine

  Like most late 1800’s mines, Coogan’s was bustling with workers, all covered from head to toe in coal dirt, busily moving about carrying out their daily routines.

  Miners led mules pulling empty wagons up the long access road toward the mine entrance where the coal awaited transfer from mine cars. Mules were also used to pull mine cars to and from the bottom of the mine, at least a mile below the surface.

  One man walked into the mine carrying a cage with a canary flapping about inside. A canary was useful for detecting mine gas. If a miner found a dead canary in his cage, it was time to get out of the mine, immediately. The same was true of rats often called the miner’s best friend. Miners would feed the rats like pets because when the rats were gone a miner would be very likely to find a dead canary in a cage, if he wasn’t already dead himself.

  The mule was by far one of the most valuable assets of a coal mine, often considered more valuable than a man. One story told of a group of men who were fooling around outside of the mine lighting the farts of a particularly flatulent mule. After a few lights, the flame was inadvertently sucked backward inside of the mule killing the beast. The story said that the men were all fired, their pay confiscated and they also received a severe beating at the hands of their coworkers, because until a replacement mule could be acquired the remaining miners had to take on the mule’s burden.

  At the entrance of the mine, two men argued. One man was thin and looked like a young man of about seventeen or eighteen years old. He was Crazy Willie's father.

  The other man, Big Bill Coogan, owner of the mine, was large, fat and about thirty-five years or so. He bore a striking resemblance to present day mine owner Bill Coogan, his grandson.

  Willie’s father, known as Will, was having a heated discussion with the owner about what Will described as the deplorable safety conditions of the mine. The young man waved his arms franticly and pointed at the mine while the owner stood defiantly with his arms wrapped across his chest.

  “But Mr. Coogan.” Will pleaded, “It's a death trap down there. The timbers supporting the shaft have been put up too fast and appropriate measures haven’t been taken to make sure they are safe. Things are so bad down there that we'll be lucky if the whole damn mine doesn't cave in on them. For the sake of these poor miners, you have to stop production until we can shore up the mine properly.”

  Coogan said, “Now, Will, you know that I can’t afford to shut down the mine. There is a mountain of coal down there, and we have to get to it. I am sure that we are just a few days away from digging into the main vein or coal. That will mean a lot of future work for those same miners.”

  Will countered “Don’t you mean a lot of work for the miners and a lot of money for your coffers? And a lot of good it will do them if the whole mountain comes down on their heads.”

  Coogan looked patronizingly at Will. “Now Will, me boy; that mine is perfectly safe. You know it, and I know it. So let's not be going around and spouting off these crazy stories of yours. All you will be doing is getting the other boys all worked up over nothing.”

  Will shouted back at Coogan “Crazy stories? Worke
d up? Somebody damn well better get worked up around here before somebody gets killed down there! Mr. Coogan. I am thinking about the men.”

  Coogan said, “Now calm down, Will. There’s no need to be getting all excited over a lot of nothing. Just take a deep breath now and relax yourself a bit.”

  “But I don’t want to relax, Mr. Coogan.” Will continued, “How can I relax when these men depend on me to help keep them safe? Hell, their wives and kids depend on me as well.”

  “Now, Will,” Coogan said, “I think you may be taking the whole safety thing a bit more seriously than you need to. Mine safety isn’t only your responsibility; it is my responsibility as well. I own this mine. I hire and pay the men. I run the business. I rely on the men to do the work. If one of you gets hurt, it does me no good. I can’t afford to be down even one man. I want to run a safe mine just as much as you do. But you have to realize that there is a very delicate balance here. We are doing the best we can to maintain a safe mine, while still trying to meet our daily production demands. If I lose money in this operation, it will be shut down and all the men will lose their jobs. What good would that be?”

  Will continued, “I realize that, Mr. Coogan, but if we push to find that main coal vein and the result is that we get our workers hurt or killed, what good is all that? I have to insist that you slow down operations long enough for me and a team of men to go down there and reinforce some of the critical timbers. It won’t take us more than a week. I promise.”

  “A week!” Coogan shouted. “If I shut this mine down for a week I might as well close it forever. My timetable is set. I have customers who are demanding their coal shipments. The mine cannot be closed for any length of time without it becoming a financial nightmare. I need it open and the men who work here need it to stay open. And that is final!”

  Will stood for a moment speechless, trying to decide what he would say next. But before he could try another argument, Coogan came up with a counterattack of his own. Coogan looked deviously at Will and asked “…. By the way, Will, how is your dear old mother doing these days?”

  “My mother is doing just fine. Now please stop trying to change the subject, Mr. Coogan. This is a serious problem we have here,” Will suggested.

  Coogan ignored him, “Oh Will, me boy, I am not trying to change any subject. In fact, your dear old mother is actually part of this whole subject. It is just that I was so very concerned about her, Will. I heard that your mother’s health ain't so good these days. And sadly when you combine that with your sad event last year when your dear father passed on to his just reward … well, I can’t help but notice that it makes you the only source of income your poor old mother has.”

  Then in a more intimidating tone he suggested, “It would be a damned shame if you were to find yourself without a job and unable to help provide your mother with her much needed care, now wouldn't it, Will me boy?

  Will was furious. He was not someone who took threats lightly; even threats from one of the most powerful men in the county. However, he was walking a tight rope and had to watch his temper carefully. He said through gritted teeth, “Are you threatening me, Mr. Coogan? You know you can't go around threatening me! I'm the safetyman for this mine, and if you even think about trying to seriously threaten me, I'll declare this mine unsafe and the men will all walk off the job. I don’t want to do that for the sake of their wages, but you know they will if I tell them to. These men trust me with their lives, Mr. Coogan, and they will do what I ask them to.”

  Coogan’s face reddened but he maintained his composure. He had been dealing with people like Will his whole life. He was no slouch at negotiating nor at strong-arm techniques. He was twice the size of Will and was not shy about using his size to his advantage. He made a menacing step toward Will who took a step backward.

  Hovering over Will, Coogan said in an intimidating tone, “Now, Willie boy. Please tell me I am mistaken. You're starting to sound to me like bit like one of them union rabblerouzers or maybe even one of them Molly Maguire thugs. I’m sure you heard about that lot haven’t you? You’re not one of those types, are you now, Will? Please tell me you're not one of those…”

  As it appeared that Coogan might actually hurt young Will, an explosion erupted behind them from deep down inside the mine.

  Chapter 10

  Clouds of black dust spewed from the mine opening as a few men rushed to escape the collapse. Will and Coogan stared on in disbelief as muffled cries and screams of terror came from inside the mine.

  Somewhere a mile below the surface the roof caved in trapping the men inside. Few people imagined at that time that the incident would end up being one of the area’s worst mine disasters. This was partially because over twenty men lost their lives that day and partially because of the other three; the two that were found later and the one that some say was never found, and who was destined to become a local legend.

  Will quickly rallied all of the able-bodied men to begin rescue operations. Coogan left the area quickly to meet with several of his underlings who he would put in charge of cleaning up the disastrous events of the day. The men worked all day to help those miners that were injured and sort out those who were killed.

  By the evening, there was still great commotion at the mine with horse-drawn rescue wagons and workers scurrying about. Many men were scattered about the ground outside of the mine, some with injuries, and many just taking a break from the long day’s rescue activities. There was a line of twenty bodies along the plateau near the mine entrance, covered in white bed linens, soaked through with blood.

  A crowd of woman, obviously wives and daughters of the miners, were kept away from the immediate mine area while the work of identifying the bodies and searching for survivors continued. The sounds of men moaning and weeping filled the air, the scene resembling a war zone. In reality, it was a war between man and nature; and nature had just scored a major victory.

  After the full day of shoring up fallen timbers and digging out rubble, the rescue workers had recovered the bodies of the twenty men who were now lying in a row. There were at least twenty to thirty more men lying outside of the mine with various injuries ranging from minor cuts to arms and legs damaged so badly that amputation was inevitable.

  It was a tragedy, the likes of which, the town had never seen before. Every surviving miner knew that the greatest tragedy was yet to come. This mine would likely close, at least temporarily but possibly permanently. All of these surviving men might have to try to find work elsewhere. They all knew it, yet they tried to put it out of their minds until they could complete the job of finding survivors. The hard work facing the miners would seem like nothing compared to the hard times facing the surviving families.

  Every man had been identified except for three: Mike Muldino, Joe Sincavage, and Danny O’Boyle. These three were working at the deepest part of the mine, just beyond the area where the cave-in occurred.

  If somehow they survived the cave-in, they would likely be trapped behind a mountain of stone, coal and dirt that could take weeks to remove, which meant that if they did not die of thirst or starvation during that time, they would probably run out of air long before anyone ever got to them.

  As far as everyone at the mine was concerned, twenty-three men died that day. It was just that three of the bodies still needed to be recovered.

  Willie was speaking into the microphone of the tape recorder back at the news van, “This much of the mine disaster of 1885 story was documented fact. The rest of what I have to tell you was told to me by my father. You may hear different versions of this tale told by different people in the area. What I am going to tell you came directly from an eyewitness to the events. You can choose to believe it or not, that will be up to you.”

  Chapter 11

  It was 1885, just days after the mine disaster. Deep down inside the mine, behind a massive wall of debris, the legend of Coogan’s Mine began to take shape.

  A chamber formed during the mine collapse, which s
ometimes happened in mine disasters of this nature. Small pockets could form behind walls of debris and were capable of sustaining life for a limited amount of time. That is of course, until the air ran out or until the survivors died of thirst or starvation.

  Sometimes miners who had been previously assumed dead were found days later clinging onto life by a thread in these safe areas. Myths and legends existed among the locals of miners who had survived by eating the flesh and drinking the blood of their fallen comrades. No one ever seemed to be able to confirm these stories, but people naturally understood how strong the will to survive was and so they treated these stories as factual.

  Suffice to say that if one was fortunate enough to survive a mine collapse a very unfortunate situation would follow; namely a race against time to be rescued before lack of oxygen, food or water took him.

  A dark chamber, perhaps thirty feet wide and twenty feet long was formed by this particular mine accident. At the left end of the chamber was an enormous mountain of rock, timber and rubble. A single pair of tracks extended out from the bottom of the rubble pile, into the chamber, indicating to anyone with a dark appreciation for irony that it truly was the end of the line.

  At the right end of the chamber was a wall of solid rock and coal where some of the miners had been digging at the time of the collapse. Every corner of the chamber was draped in darkness and faint shadows, as the only source of any light was a lone oil lamp hanging from a collapsed timber near the center of the room about five feet off of the ground.