About Falling Rocks: The old man and I were working close to the face of the coal. He was a driller and came in just after the pining was done. I was the cutting machine hostler and was idle for the moment so I was giving him a hand and learning how he operated his machine. Suddenly he stopped drilling and motioned me to come to him using his headlamp. I rushed forward, bent over at the waist as usual, to help as needed. He had shut his machine down and told me to move as close to the face as I could. We both scurried the few feet to the face and I looked at him questioningly. Shes going to come down, I heard it pop., he said. Safest place is as close to the face as you can get. My initial reaction was to run away from the face and I guess that was evident in my expression as the old man reached out and put his gloved hand on my forearm, shaking his head in the classic no motion. Seconds later there was a loud crack and tons of rock fell with a defining thud and an ear popping change in air pressure. Our vision was obscured by the dust that had been stirred up when the rocks fell. Within minutes we could see that our exit was blocked by the rock fall. I also knew that had I followed instinct and went toward the exit those rocks would mark my grave. About this time it occurred to me that we were entombed and I felt that unreasoning fear that goes with the sense of being trapped. Once again the old man looked at me and said, dont worry, they wont leave us. I knew he spoke true as no one was left in a mine as long as there was any chance of rescue. The old man started telling me about a piece of cake that was in his bucket, how good it was going to taste at lunch time and how his old women had made it from scratch using stone ground flower. He had my mouth watering thinking about that piece of cake. Within minutes we heard the clanking and banging of mechanical arms and the rock begin to tremble and move. Seconds later the beams of light from headlamps appeared. Rocks continued to be moved and soon jokes were being told about the effort the pinned and the hostler would go to to get a work break. From start to finish no more than 30 minutes had gone by but it seemed longer as I looked back on it. The old man and I sat in the shack sharing a piece of cake and, by God, he was right; that old women of his could fix some of the best cake I had ever eaten. Life in the Coal Fields.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Oct 2013 10:51:33 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015