Growing up in the shadows of Coal Mining Shafts(Boomer Generation-circa1950's 60's) a kid not unlike myself, from the Bridgeport Rows, could count on an Education of Unique, and Explicit local languages, as well as the ways of Life, as only one group of Special "Earthly Connected Tradesmen, known as heartily as ,Coal Miners, could transcend them!
As a boy, bantering about the neighbourhood, I remember quite vividly, the never-ending stories, swapped usually at local chat sessions , not scheduled, but regular, perhaps on a front step, in any backyard, a horse barn, a barbershop, corner store, ball field, around a car on chuck blocks, or just about any other "gathering spot" in the Hood.
There was most definetely , a host of commonalities, when it came to the "terminology" used to describe daily incidents, such as the practices used, the tools handled, the skill sets neccessary, since the intertwined stories of the daily underground workings being discussed, had its own "Vocabulary". Unique to the industry of which they were so much an integral part as they toiled deep down within the damp and dusty trappings of the collieries , was the special language commonly used and understood by the Mining fraternity, widely understood as...Pit Talk!and all over the Coal Fields of home, as I, during my school days, practiced the ABC's and Gizzintas, in class, I always paced time, yearning for more "facetime" with this wide array of amazing , courageous, life -educated, Pit-wise, and articulating story tellers, the men of my Hood, my own Wall of Coal miners.
In the deeps of the Collieries,
At first, this language, which was second nature to them, seemed to be kind of Foreign in a way. Yet , as interesting as the stories would be, those "working words" would become so much more clear and understood as the dust and dirt of the repetition settled in and a visualization of the stories emerged from the darkness of the mines.
As they bantered among themselves, if you watched closely at their grimaces, their gestures, studied hard, their body language, listened with keen senses, paid close attention to the mannerisms, and were not afraid of getting a splash of blood on you, lots of muck in yer eyes, and a foul cuss word in every sentence, Ok then, now you were about to enter that special world. However, to allow for you and I to more fully appreciate, and visualize the reality of "life down under", to truely gain a full respect for, what wuz what? who wuz who?and what were we going to be handlin here, we shall chance to do what they do and take their journey, to that far down under world, the dark and dingy, black and dusty depth of the earth, more commonly known as .....The DEEPS!!!!!
We begin our journey into the daily routine followed many years ago by each and every miner, as we arrive at the WASH HOUSE, with a towel tightly wrapped and stuck deep into our ARSE POCKET, we are met with a billow of steam, chirping of birds, and the odor of dampness and mist, the result of the most recent crew of miners who have come to the SURFACE, just minutes ago and are now in the SHOWERS.
Walking thru the rows of deep green benches, we finally reach the location where we find our own personal HOOK, which is strung high in the rafters of the ceiling of the wash-house. Once released from the rack, down come the hangars carrying our PIT-CLOTHES, which we'll now change into in preparation for our shift. Once we get out of our street clothes, the work gear is laid out, one piece at a time as we don each part to our full paraphanalia.
Into,the,LONG-JOHNS,PITSOKS<PITSHIRT<OVERALLS<PIT,JACKET<PIT BOOTS<WEB BELT< PIT CAP and in reverse, we restring the CIVIES onto the HOOK and rehoist it back into the air where it will be kept till end of shift. With out LUNCHCANS in hand we head over towards the LAMPHOUSE, have a last smoke before we head out. Inside the Lamphouse, we exchange our CHECK NUMBER for a Lamp from the LAMPKEEPER, he will hang the Checknumber on the BOARD, showing that we have checked in and are headin down under. It will remain there till we return.
Now as we make our way to the BANK-HEAD, where we await the arising , CAGE,also known as the RAKE, coming up the SHAFT,from the PIT BOTTOM,we can hear the cranking winding clanking of the BULLWHEEL with the extended steelcable, grinding its way to the top. With a loud and thunderoud clunk, a strong skruink and squeel and the CAGE has reached the SURFACE. The huge heavy steel meshed door lifts open and we are met by a crew of BLACK FACED, Tired, and hungry men, only the white of their teeth smiling at us as they whisk quickly out of the Rake and make their way to the Hot and steamy showers at the WASH-HOUSE. A few brief exchanges of laughter, idle chatter, and a general acknowledgement of each others role reversals and then with the Cage refilled with our gang, it is we, who are now on our way to the land where no sun shines, we're headin for the PITBOTTOM>
Once the signal is given to the HOISTMAN, it is he who controls the ups and downs of the CAGE, and so with a sudden clank and a shiver, the CAGE, begins its journey as it descends quite briskly to some 1000 feet below the surface. As the air begins to feel thicker and moister& heavier, we soon reach the PIT BOTTOM and the Big Cage Elevator comes to a rather sudden and rollicking halt. This new world , the world of which only Mining men can appreciate has now been entered, so if you dare continue, the next leg of our trek rolls diagonally out, way out , under the millions of tons of pressurized rock and coal, out under the Cold DEEPS of the Atlantic ocean.
Once we check in over at the OVERMANS Shack, we get our assignments and with our BUDDIES, we all as an entire crew head out for the journey to the WALL .Up the SLANT and over the LEVEL, we climb into the empty Rake and this time signal to the DIESEL MAN, to head out .It’s a fair ride out to the Wall which we are currently working on,which again will take us much further out under the Ocean and to the actual production area and where we will MINE the Coal for the night. Now we arrive at the INBYE, we organize our specific tasks , as each job has its own title, responsibilities, and routines, and all must work in harmony with the other to assure a safe and proper workplace. This is the place where Coal gets mined and we are gonna be a part of getting that Black gold from amidst its solid placement buried deep in these chasms and later, on its way to the surface and beyond.
From the directions of the OVERMAN, UNDERGROUND MANAGER, to the SHOT FIRER, and DRILLER, To the BRUSHERS, and BARE FACEMINERS, this is where the ACTION is! This is the Scene of the GRIME! The DRILLERS will bore holes deep into the rock formations ,in preparation for the SHOTFIRERS to load the POWDER and CAPS and ready the area for a CHARGE. Once all the SHOTS are filled, the GAS LEVELS checked and double checked, and if clear, he will give the SIGNAL, clear the area and let ‘er go, he'll detonate the charge and BLAST the Coal from the Face of the Wall.
The BLAST leaves a VOID called the GOB, which must now be SECURED, CHUCKED, And cleaned up. BRUSHERS, are assigned to keep the ROOF, Sides, and Floor, of all the passages in Good repair and (he) , must be highly skilled at his job, and be an experienced Miner. BOOMs and CHUCKS are used to secure the Roof to prevent any CREEPS or FALLS, and to ensure to the best of their ability that we all stay safe and secure while we now begin to extract the coal that we have unearthed from its centuries old toombs.
Once the coal face has been fully blasted, the LOADERS begin the process of loading the Coal into Boxes, which are connected by the CHAIN-RUNNERS and once filled are moved on a small scale rails out to the LEVEL where they will begin the journey up and out of the Mine to the Surface . Tonite, in our location, we don't have the Electric Diesel available to us to headman the coal trip out but we do have a lot of HORSE POWER, to enable our Plenty filled Coal Boxes to be moved, never the less. Yes, we have our own Team of fabled "PIT PONIES" assigned to us with a DRIVER as the source of strength to get our Coal out and headed up. At one time, not now however, the drivers of the Pit Ponies was a job for the younger boys in the mines, however, we don't make use of Child-Labor here so an older more mature and closer to retirement age Miner gets the chore. As they lead the trip out towards the Level, The TRAPPER, again many years back would be just a boy, is stationed at the underground doorways, and he will hear us coming and with speed and accuracy open and close the passageways, which must be kept well regulated , because this whole process allows for the proper movement of air into and out of the mine working areas, and constant circulation is critical to the movement. These passages are normally kept closed, except for the movements of the TRIPS, on their way out the LEVEL and to PIT BOTTOM where they then make way to the SURFACE by way of the Shaft.
The SHAFTMAN will work continuously hauling filled BOXES, 2 at a time into the cage and up the Shaft to the Surface. With the Power of the BULLWHEEL , the huge winch and cable hoist mechanism, he will bring the loaded boxes up and send them out to the BANK HEAD where they will be weighed and dumped and the tonnage assigned by way of the check numbers that have been etched on the sides with CHALK from down below from whence they came. The Check-Weighman will record this info and insure the crews who mined the coal are credited with the tonnage. The boxes are then Switched over and sent back to the cage area where they will be dropped back down and refilled by us miners.
With our SHIFT now at the mid-way point or better, all the STONE DUSTING is packed and ready for the next SHOT, this will be a good time to grab some well-earned rest, so let’s grab our CANS, find a dry spot where we can sit, and lets replenish our bellies for we surely have earned it, been a busy shift so far. With the whole Crew now seated and the real PIT TALK begins, first thing we hear more commonly at this point is....."WHAT's In YER CAN BYE?" For most of us, until we unlock the snap or loosen the belt that holds the CAN tightly closed, to "Keep out any unwanted guests", we are as surprised as most, cuz the wife usually packs it and until now it all remains a mystery. "Got anyting Good in ‘er Tonoit Bye?" As you unravel the Waxpaper, the first aromas of what’s in your can then become fully apparent....and at this point, being in the world’s most famous restaurant would not compare to the delicacies that are found beneath the well wrapped goodness, sandwiches, anything ranging from Sardines, to Bully beef, Ham and Cheese, to peanut butter and jam, left overs of all types tastes and flavors. For the next 20 minutes or so, you're in the land of milk lunch, cold smelt, bakin powder biscuits, molasses cookies, and all of this and so much more, tasted and traded with yer buddies and then washed down, most likely, with a with warm sweetened tea, almost always kept luke-warm , housed inside a Green quart bottle which perhaps a few weeks ago was first filled with 99 cent wine but now stands in for a Home-made thermos Bottle. In any case, this smooth liquid now becomes the Nectar of the Gods as you wash down that so enjoyable lunch, as well as the built up coal dust that just happens to have added to your inner cheeks over the last few hours, All together, this has been lunch and,we are filled up, bellies satisfied, and somewhat invigorated, we must now get ready for Mining once again.....Oh ! Don't forget to make sure you leave something in the Can,first one up at home gets the treat!!
Now that we are fairly well rested, best we are going to be at this point ,and snacked up , bellies no longer rumbling like the pit we share the deeps with, we'll continue with the chores at hand, that is Mining Coal! So on to the BORING, BLASTING< CUTTING,BRUSHING, CHUCKING,LOADING, and all out Production of Coal in TONS at a time and filling up BOX after BOX, sending them again , out to the LEVEL, and to the SHAFT that will haul them up to the SURFACE to be Weighed, Dumped at the BANK-HEAD and returned to filled once more. The process of Mining Coal has Now given us a keen sense of just what it takes to be a MINER, to do this type of work and to ensure that we get through the process in this,very DANGEROUS ,DARK-and DIRTY environment so far under ground and known as the DEEPS.
Its gettin close to quittin time, our shift at the face is all but complete for this night, so with all the care and control of our relative positions, we ensure that all the GEAR we have used during the SHIFT is placed where the next GANG will have equitable access to it, tidy up whatever junk and debris may still be about the area and say so long to the FACE. We head out back thru the levels up the DEEPS and out to the RAKE, where we'll catch a ride on the man-cars to take us out to the PITBOTTOM and await the next LIFT to the SURFACE. Time to share a few jokes with the Boys, a few stories about the wife and kids and what’s up on the weekend , what’s on the honey do list? It's gettin close to October, time to think about bankin the house, gathering wood for the winter and stuff like that. Anyone goin to Iggies Saturday noit fer a few ales Bye? Echoes a voice from the crowd! If the wife will let cha , retorts another! As the chatter grows the cage opens and in we pile till the cage is full and away we head back to the Surface to the Bankhead and over to the Lamp-house, where we exchange, once again, in reverse, the lantern, for the Check Number and then quickly over to the Wash-House fer a Shower.
Tired, Dirty, Black as soot, and with a hungry belly, perhaps chewin on something ya grabbed from the pickins from inside yer CAN, ya head into the Steamin hot Full pressure blast of the Shower.....AAHHHHHH!!!!Just let that full throttled almost too hot to handle spray totally and for this moment, rinse away not only the first few layers of Coal dust and dirt but the entire last 8 hours of physical pain and soreness entrenched all the way from the top of yer head to the tips of yer toes......Jezzzus KROIST ...that feels good! in some sort of a" Walter Mitty" moment, you are lost to the moment with your mind wandering anywhere but the Deeps, and then....SMACK!! someone takes a wet towel and snaps in at yer bare skin , it stings like 100 bees all at once and the reality of the moment quickly returns...."WASH ME BACK JOE?? " WILL YA? Not out of the ordinary, this is common place and ..Tit for tat, you wash my back and I'll wash yours, and as dirt has many places to adhere, the back not being an exception, its one place that none of us have extensions long enough to reach . Along with the CAT CALLS about the various other details that hang about, jokes about size, whether, tiny or otherwise, the wash-house is abound with whistling, yelling, and general hooliganism and so it goes, until yer back out to the benches, just below yer HOOK.
Towelled off and dry, it’s time to lower the hook and re-don our Street clothes, lash the Pit Clothes on and re- raise the Hook back into position, where it will be safe and dry till we return for the next shift. All the while inside the Wash-House , no matter what time of day can be heard the constant chirping of the many birds that nest and play in the rafters of the high roof area. Add to that the constant thrush of flowing water from the showers, the whistling of many men , and the throb and pulse of boilers and all together, as strange as this sounds, it creates a unique and original beat, that while you are here, pulsates within and around you and kind of moves you from one stage of this process to another, in addition to the sounds are the aromas, the smells, the airs ,the mist, its all together a rythym that will be with you and stay with you over and over again, as each time you return, you blend back into the movement of the chorus because you are an instrument in that Band of Brothers, the Band of men called miners .Are you feeling it? Are you sensing it? Are you smelling it and wearing it? This is the Blend ....found only in this place....and then!!!WHOOSH!!!
The big Door opens and out into the Kool almost Frosty air of a late Autumn morning, you deeply inhale, UFFFFFFFFF!!!!!Deep way down into the depths of the lungs, Fresh! Kool! Lasting! Refreshing!,You suck as much of that life lasting oxygen filled air as you can muster, as deep down as it ever can reach and......AAAAHHHHHHHHH....Exhale! It’s time to say thanks to the Lord above, and in exchange for a very hard earned nite shift down under, It's Time to head for HOME! We've given our pound, we've piled our tons, it's on to the HOBO and home to the Fold.
Silently, Home after a ride on the Hobo train, you slowly, carefully and silently creep into the house, where you are met by the Wife, who knows this routine, equally as well as you do, She's at ease now, too, after having another nite tossing and turning in wait for your safe return, you are home, safe and sound. It's a pattern of uneasy worry, that cycles through every single day that you are connected to this job. It's the Miners life it is.
You check in on the kids, who are still in bed, a tuck here and there, an I love you or two, dependin on who"s alert enough to respond. Love you too dad, can be softly heard from one of the kids as you carefully close the bedroom door .A quick and tasty breakfast with the wife, some bacon and eggs, homemade bread, toasted over the coals of the kitchen stove, and a hot cup of tea and its off to bed for a well earned sleep, some where in the range of 5-6 hours maybe!
You come to about 3 O'Clock or so, stretch the stiff and tired bones , splash some cold water over yer face, re-orient yourself to the moment, yep...yer home, that's supper you smell, and its time to head for the kitchen and have a hearty meal with the family. Time to catch up with the whole gang .As well as having quality time with the family, over a hot delicious meal, it was also the place to hear the latest about School, Chores, local gossip, and answer any questions that the kids may have about the ways and means of life’s simplest and most pressing issues. So far as chit-chat about the Pit and work, it was usually not part of routine table-topics, unless something really new or otherwise important, like Strikes, or shutdowns were on the agenda.
This was routinely, "Chillax Time", what little of the day could be assigned to this frame of time and so this was the read the paper, catch the news, sip a cup of Hot Tea, moments and the best part of the day to Ease Back and just relax.
Then you may take a few minutes to stroll outside to the barn, stretch your legs with a short walk to a neighbors yard, and then if time allows, and it can if you plan it , grab a quick nap at 7 or so, and then, before you know it....It's that time to ready up and begin preparations for another Back Shift, Down Under.
The "CAN" is packed, yer Towel is Rolled, new cake of soap tonite, ya mentioned that to the wife earlier , fresh Fig of Twist, placed in yer shirt pocket, along with yer Check Number, and for the moment, the Tea in your newspaper rolled wine bottle is Boiling hot.....will it be like that at 3 in the morning? Not quite but it will still be sweet and refreshing so far under-ground when lunch time rolls round again. So with a kiss and hug , best wishes and stay safe comments from the wife and any of the kids still not in bed, out the door you go. Off to catch the HOBO, and just like each and every other day, and or nite, just happens that this week it's the dreaded BACK SHIFT! And routinely as this may be, another Shift awaits you , so far out under the Pounding surf of the late October seas, out down and under the dark ocean deeps you go....hey jack...hold on we'll walk to the crossing together....Whats goin on?
THANKS FOR TAKING THE TIME AND BEING ADVENTUROUS ENOUGH TO COME DOWN THE PIT WITH ME BYE.......BE SAFE...BE WELL...BE SURE...BE A MINER BYE....IT'S IN YER BLOOD.!!!
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