About the Program || Joe Hill Home || PBS Home
|
The Scofield Disaster:
Hard, dirty workCoal was discovered in the hills above Scofield in the mid-1870s. The town was founded in 1879, making it one of the first coal towns in the state. From 1879 to 1920, it was a booming center of mining, with a population of about 2,500 -- and 13 saloons. The mines at nearby Winter Quarters employed about 300 men.
Most of them were recent immigrants; the majority had been in the country less than 10 years. A large contingent had come from Finland, but Scotland, Wales, England, France, Italy, Denmark and Iceland were also represented.
"The mining companies would go to other countries to recruit workers," says Woody Carter, who with his wife, Ann, is planning a memorial for the 100th anniversary of the mine disaster.
And as hard as mining was, and as poorly as they got paid, he said, for many of the miners it was better than what they left behind. Life was not kind to poor people anywhere at the turn of the century.
Mining was hard, dirty work. Mining companies virtually owned the towns: the houses, the stores, the goods -- and, some said, even the souls -- of the miners. Technology was limited, deplorable conditions were an accepted fact, and knowledge was lacking on even some of the basic health and safety issues.
By 1900, five separate mines operated at Winter Quarters, although some were joined by tunnels. And they were considered among the safest and most progressive in the county.
Large-scale disasters were unheard of in Utah until March of that year, when a blast shook the Castle Gate Mine, on the other side of Carbon County. But that happened after men had left the mine, and although there was damage to equipment and tunnels, no miners were injured. No one thought it could happen here -- until that fateful day in May.
Rescue efforts were immediate, but it was already too late.
"The removal of the bodies from the mine was begun at noon yesterday," reported the Deseret News, "hundreds of men having volunteered their services for the purpose. These rescuers came from other mines and towns surrounding and worked incessantly to bring out the burnt and mangled remains of the dead miners. The bodies were taken to the company building as soon as they were brought out of the mine and were there dressed and laid out preparatory to the coroner's inquest and for identification.
"Many of the rescuers came near losing their lives from the fatal afterdamp, but the work was continued in the face of all danger, and most of the brave fellows remained at their posts until they were almost ready to drop."
The owner of Pleasant Valley Coal Co. was in Salt Lake City when the explosion occurred. He organized a train full of rescue workers and medical supplies that arrived in Scofield by 3:30.
"That amazes me," says Woody Carter, "to think that communication was good enough, and with the steam engines they used in those days, that they could get here so quickly."
A second relief train from Salt Lake City arrived the next afternoon. And when it stopped, the townspeople found it full of flowers. When children in Salt Lake City heard about the explosion, they went house to house to gather flowers from gardens and took wagonloads to the train. On the trip down, the flowers were bundled into bouquets -- enough for every casket.
A subscription fund for the widows and children was also immediately begun statewide, and the newspaper printed the list of contributors. Led by businessmen A.W. McCune, who sent $2,000, and David Keith, who pledged $1,000, were lines and lines of people who pledged $1, 50 cents, 25 cents -- whatever they could. Before they were through, more than $200,000 was raised.
"This was the state's largest disaster," notes Woody Carter. "But it was also the largest relief effort. And you have to look at that side, too."
About the Program || Joe Hill Home || PBS Home
