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Overview
When the whistle blows, Christina knows her father is coming home. Every day he emerges from the pit with his skin caked in coal dust. He’s 50 now and he’s been working in the mines since he was 12 years old. It’s dangerous, backbreaking labor, but he does it because he loves his family. As far as Christina is concerned, there is no job in the world more honorable than digging coal. Danger is always close at hand in the mines. There are cave-ins, explosions, and diseases. But no matter what happens, Christina and her family always stick together.
This meticulously researched look at life in a coal camp shows that no matter how dark the pit, love will always shine through.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781504022033 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Open Road Media |
| Publication date: | 10/13/2015 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 184 |
| Sales rank: | 406,107 |
| File size: | 8 MB |
| Age Range: | 8 - 12 Years |
About the Author
Born in Springfield, Ohio, in 1893, Lois Lenski achieved acclaim as both an author and illustrator of children’s literature. For her Regional America series, Lenski traveled to each of the places that became a subject of one of her books. She did meticulous research and spoke with children and adults in the various regions to create stories depicting the lives of the inhabitants of those areas. Her novel of Florida farm life, Strawberry Girl, won the Newbery Award in 1946. She also received a Newbery Honor in 1942 for Indian Captive, a fictionalized account of the life of Mary Jemison. Lenski died in 1974.
Read an Excerpt
Coal Camp Girl
By Lois Lenski
OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA
Copyright © 1959 Lois LenskiAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5040-2203-3
CHAPTER 1
BUCKET
"Mama, what time is it?"
Tina ran up on the back porch.
"Almost three-thirty," said her mother. "There's the whistle now."
The sharp blast of the mine whistle echoed through the valley.
"Time to meet Daddy," said the little girl. "I'm going now."
Mama came out on the porch. She held up her hand to shade her eyes from the afternoon sun. She looked across the railroad track, where the large black coal-tipple stood.
"I see the men coming out," she said.
But Tina was already flying down the road on feet as light as wings. She looked back once and saw Mama take the large oval tin tub down from its hook on the wall. That was for Daddy's bath. Some of the miners went straight to the company bathhouse, but they had to pay extra for that. So Daddy always came home black. He said he liked to take his bath at home.
Christina Wilson was nine years old. She ran fast, her short hair flying loose in the wind. What would Daddy have for a treat today? Maybe it would be something special!
"Tina! Tina! Wait for me!" a voice called behind her.
"Oh, that Ronnie!" Tina slowed up. "Why does he always have to tag along?"
Little feet came pattering up and there was her brother Ronnie. Ronnie was only five and had brown hair like Tina's. His clothes were ragged and dirty.
"Why can't you stay at home?" asked Tina. "I thought you were sleeping."
"You ran away from me," said Ronnie, almost crying.
"Why do you have to come?" asked Tina.
"I want Daddy's bucket," said Ronnie.
"It's my turn today," said Tina. "I'll get there first." She ran on ahead.
There came the miners with their swinging buckets up the dirt road from the mine. They were talking and laughing as they walked along. Tina looked at them as they walked by. With their faces so black, all the men looked alike. Only their voices were different.
"Where's my girl? Did she come for me today?"
That was Daddy. His voice was big and booming. The next minute he had stepped behind her. Then Tina felt a hand on her face — a big black hand! She pulled it off, she knew it was Daddy's.
"Don't make me black!" she cried, laughing.
Other little girls came running to meet their black daddies, and were scrambling for their buckets. Every miner's child was looking for a treat. This was an age-old tradition in all mining camps.
Walter Wilson was a strong husky man of fifty, with a full face and a genial smile. He wore his bank clothes, his hard-shell bank cap, leather jacket and his mine shoes with the hard copper toes. He had been a coal miner all his life, for he had entered the mines as a boy of twelve. He loved the work for he knew no other.
Tina and Ronnie tugged at Daddy's bucket.
"I got it first!" cried Ronnie.
"I came first," said Tina. "He tagged after me."
"Now here, no scrapping," said Daddy. "There's a treat for you both."
The children never knew what they were going to get. But whatever it was, the food had a different taste just because it came from the mine.
Daddy opened the round aluminum bucket. It was made in two parts like a double boiler. The bottom part held two or three quarts of drinking water. That was why it was so big. If Daddy was ever trapped in the mine and could not get out for a few days, the water might save his life. The top half of the bucket, called the "deck" held his lunch. Daddy lifted the cover himself and the two children peered in. The sandwiches were gone, the pie was gone, the apple was gone, but there, hiding under the waxed paper, were two sticks of chewing gum.
"Gum!" cried Ronnie. "Goody!"
"Peppermint!" said Tina. "Oh, Daddy!"
The next minute the wrappers were off and the two children were chewing gum. They took hold of Daddy's hands and started happily for home.
The Wilsons lived in Linden, a West Virginia coal camp. "Coal camp" is the local name for a coal-mining town. Linden lay in a deep valley with high mountains on all sides, and was cut in two by Arbutus Creek and the railroad track. In the center of the valley, over the tracks, was the coal-tipple, a tall black structure which looked like a great coal bin standing on stilts. Two drift mines opened into the mountains on either side of the tipple. Only one was operating, and that only part time. Daddy said he was lucky to have a job.
The camp was filled with houses built by the coal company many years before, set together in rows on different levels. Some of the houses were boarded up and empty, where people had moved out when the mines began to close down, some to homes of their own elsewhere or to other occupations. There were yards and fences, and in a few yards flowers were blooming. Twenty-five years ago the houses had been painted white, but now were looking dingy and gray, blackened by coal dust over the years. Out by every fence was a small coal shed with a high window into which coal could be shoveled from a truck. All the houses in the camp were heated by coal.
Daddy knew everybody in town. He called hello or nodded his head to people he saw as they walked along. Men sat on the little narrow porches now, their tired feet resting on the railing. Women called children to come in and eat supper. As the sun sank behind Laurel Mountain on the west, the shadow of dusk fell across the camp. Daddy and the children came to the last house on the narrow street.
"Number 181 — that's us!" said Tina. "If I didn't know our number, I might go in the wrong house — they're all alike."
Daddy sniffed. "I smell beef stew cooking."
A three-foot porch was on the front close to the road. As they walked around the side of the house to the back, a short-haired brown dog came out to meet them.
"Hi, Queenie!" said Daddy, stooping to pat her on the head. "No, I didn't save you a treat, old girl."
"Here's Daddy, Mama!"
Tina opened the back door and they all went in.
"Got my bath about ready?" asked Daddy.
"As soon as Jeff brings the cold water," said Mama. "Do you want to eat first?"
Tina's big sister, Celia, age nineteen, stood by the stove stirring food in a stew pan. She held her year-old baby on her arm. Celia was the Wilsons' married daughter. Her husband had been in the Air Force and was killed overseas, so she lived at home.
"Dinner's about ready," said Celia.
Walter Wilson went over and tickled the baby under the chin. "How's Letty?" he asked.
"Fussy today," said Celia. "She's teething again. She won't let me alone for a minute."
"Where's Jeff?" asked Daddy.
"He's coming," called Tina.
At the outdoor spigot in a neighbor's yard, her brother Jeff had filled two buckets with water. One spigot was shared by four houses. The boy came up the back steps with the water, the dog Queenie at his heels. Mama started pouring hot water from the stove into the big oval bath tub. She had spread newspapers on the floor underneath.
As Daddy took off his jacket and his shirt, coal dust fell from his clothes. The pockets were full of coal dust. Mama took his clothes out on the porch and shook them.
"Stay on the newspapers, Walter," she said. "I get tired of mopping the floor every night."
"Hi, Dad," said Jeff, as he came in.
"Hi, son," said Daddy. "Got your chores all done?"
"Not yet, Daddy," said Jeff. "Got to get coal in next."
"Don't wait till it's dark," said Daddy.
"I stopped at Uncle Chick's on the way home," said Jeff. "He brought Snowball home from the mine. Poor pony — she'd hurt her foot. We both looked at it but couldn't see what was wrong."
"Maybe she just needs new shoes," said Daddy.
"Uncle Chick's going to have her shod before he works her again," said Jeff. "I took her up to Grandpa Ferris's."
"If he keeps her in the pasture a couple of days, likely she'll be all right," said Daddy.
"Oh, is Snowball up at Grandpa's?" cried Tina. "Can I go up and ride her?"
Jeff looked at his sister and frowned. "You can't ride a pony with a hurt foot."
"But you said there was nothing wrong with it ..." began Tina. "Snowball's a nice pony. Daddy, can't I have her for a pet?"
"Snowball's a work pony, not a pet," said Daddy. "She's worth three hundred and fifty dollars."
"Shoo! Shoo! You kids get out of the kitchen," said Mama. "Daddy wants to take his bath. Supper's ready and we'll eat as soon as he's done."
Grandpa Ferris was Mama's daddy. Mama had two brothers, Chick and Jack. Uncle Chick leased several small punch mines. They used ponies to work them. Grandpa and Grandma Ferris lived up on the high road by Laurel Mountain, above the coal camp. Grandpa had a pasture there, where he kept the ponies when they were not working. Uncle Jack was not married and still lived with his parents. Uncle Chick was married to Aunt Effie and they had three children, Trig, Dede and Cindy. They lived in Crabapple Hollow on the other side of Laurel Mountain.
Supper was over, the dishes were washed and put away, when Uncle Chick and Uncle Jack came over in Uncle Jack's car. Tina and Ronnie took Uncle Jack by the hand, but he shook them off and sat down to talk to the men.
"Run along, kids," he said. "I want to talk to your dad."
"Still working, Walter?" asked Uncle Chick.
Daddy nodded.
"They laid off twenty men today," said Uncle Jack, "but not me and not Walter."
"Your turns are coming," said Uncle Chick. "Linden Number 3 is worked out. You boys had better come in with us and do strip mining. Grandpa's got a good lease from the company, and we get a sure price for every ton we dig. It's like piece work — what you produce, you get paid for."
"That's O.K.," said Daddy. "But I've been working for the Mountain Valley Coal Company all my life. Guess I'll stick by them."
"I feel the same way, Walter," said Jack. "Chick wants me to go in with him on this pony mine, but I like the big mine better."
"Until they lay you off, and then where'll you be?" said Chick.
"When the company gets more coal orders in, they'll take the men back on again," said Daddy. "I've always liked the Mountain Valley Coal Company. Back in 1937 or 1938, Linden Number 4 dumped 39,999 tons of coal in a single day — one ton lacking forty thousand. In the thirties they employed fifteen hundred men and there were six thousand people living in Linden."
"And look at it now," said Uncle Chick. "A little old rundown camp with a handful of people. You always like to brag about the good old days. They're over now and that coal's gone. The little that's left, the company can't afford to use their big machinery on. So they lease it to us."
"Yes — the leavin's," said Daddy. "That's what you and Gramp are diggin', with your little old ponies."
"But we're independent!" said Uncle Chick.
"I'll stick by the company," said Daddy, "as long as they need me."
"Me too," said Jack. "I don't want to go back to pick and shovel."
No one said anything for a while. Then the boy Jeff spoke up.
"Uncle Chick, will you give me a job in your punch mine when I get a little older?"
"Sure thing!" said Uncle Chick. "That is, if there's any coal left. Let's see, you're about twelve now ..."
"Next June," said Jeff.
"You've only got six more years to wait," laughed Uncle Chick. "The law now says you've got to be eighteen."
"Wish I could start at twelve like Daddy did," said Jeff. "Bet I could drive the ponies right now — better than old Okey Travis. He whips 'em, that makes 'em mean."
"Ponies are just like children," said Mama. "If you go yelling and slashing them around, they get hard-headed and never are any good."
"I keep telling Okey every day not to use his whip," said Uncle Chick. "He knows better but loses his temper sometimes."
"I'd be a better pony-driver than he is," said Jeff. "He should never have whipped old Smokey. Smokey killed a man once when he whipped him with a whip. But when I took care of him, there couldn't nobody handle him but me. There couldn't nobody ride him but me. He wouldn't go to anybody dressed in black."
"Jeff's right," said Daddy. "Jeff's got a way with them ponies. He can get 'em to do whatever he wants, without any trouble, just by coaxing and sweet-talkin'."
Jeff's pale face glowed as he talked of the pony he had loved and lost.
"He was smoke-colored," said Jeff, remembering. "He was the same color as Trigger, Roy Rogers' horse. He was forty-six inches, came up just chest high, to the second button on my shirt.... I hated it when he had to be killed ... and you burned him up ..." The boy's voice broke.
"Who told you we did that?" asked Uncle Chick sternly.
"I saw it," said Jeff. "I watched it. I was hiding in the bushes."
No one spoke for a time.
"It's the law, son," said Daddy slowly. "You got to dispose of the carcass in a sanitary way."
"Oh, but you should see Bright Eyes!" said Uncle Chick, in an effort to change the subject. "You'll like Bright Eyes ..."
"You've got a new pony called Bright Eyes?" asked Tina, eagerly.
"Yes, we rode clear over to Virginia and bought two new ponies," said Uncle Chick. "Their names are Bright Eyes and Diamond."
Tina clapped her hands. "What pretty names! Oh, I want to ride Bright Eyes. Will he be staying at Gramp's? Can I have him for a pet?"
"Yes, until we start to work him," said Uncle Chick. "You wouldn't want Diamond — he's pretty wild."
"Mama, can I go spend the night at Grandma's?" asked Tina.
"Not tonight, it's way past your bedtime," said Mama. "It's too late to be ridin' ponies. Ronnie's sound asleep. You go and hop in and be quick about it. Jeff, time for bed."
Soon the children called good night and Mama switched off the bedroom lights.
One by one the lights went out in the little houses, and darkness covered the little coal camp in the valley.
CHAPTER 2COAL
"Hi, Uncle Jack!" called the children.
Tina and Jeff ran to meet him as he drove up in his car. Uncle Jack was their favorite uncle. He was young and good-natured, and made a fuss over the children.
"Jack, you'd better get my house coal before snow flies," said Mama. "Winter will be here before we know it."
"No time like the present," said Uncle Jack. He turned to the children. "Want to go for a ride?"
"Yes, yes." Tina and Jeff jumped in the car.
Daddy and Uncle Jack were not working today. The whistle did not blow at six the night before, and that meant the mine would not operate today. The men had only three days of steady work a week now.
"We'll get some house coal for your mother," said Uncle Jack. "I've got some tubs and sacks in the back trunk."
The car went chugging down the road, with the children bouncing in the back seat. But instead of going up the mountain, Uncle Jack drove down past the big tipple and parked near the entrance to Linden Number 3 mine.
"We can't get coal here," said Jeff.
"No," said Uncle Jack. "We'll go up on the mountain later. I have to get something first. Want me to show you around?"
Tina had never been there before. Uncle Jack pointed out the lamp house, the bathhouse and the mine foreman's office. In the office, he showed them the fire boss's reports, time sheets and injury charts. On the wall was a large map of the mine interior, with all hallways, break-throughs and crosscuts marked. Uncle Jack told the children the mine was laid out like a big city, with main streets, side streets and alleys. He showed them where his section was working — three miles into the side of the mountain, directly under the town of Mapleton.
Then they came out and went into the lamp house. They saw all the miners' lamps hanging up for recharging. They saw the board with numbered hooks for the miners' identification checks. Uncle Jack gave Tina and Jack each a bank camp with a light. He fastened the batteries to their belts.
"Now I'm a miner!" cried Jeff. "Give me a pick and a shovel!"
"Oh, the battery's heavy," said Tina. "Don't you get tired carrying it all day long?"
Uncle Jack laughed. "No," he said. "I'm so used to it, I never notice it. Come along with me."
"Where are we going?" asked Tina timidly.
"I have to do a little work inside," said Uncle Jack. "Want to go along?"
"Sure!" said Jeff. "All the way in?"
"Can I go too?" asked Tina. She had never been allowed to go near the big mine before. "Will it hurt me?"
"Of course not," said Uncle Jack. "It might be good for you to see how your daddy and Uncle Jack have to go under the ground where it is dark to make a living."
"I've been in plenty of mines before," bragged Jeff. "I'm going to be a miner when I grow up."
"Keep your lamps on then," said Uncle Jack, "and come along. Just be careful and go only where I tell you to. See that overhead wire? Don't walk under it. That's a live wire strung along the ceiling. It carries the electricity for the trolley which runs the train of coal cars in and out. The electric engine that pulls it is called a motor. When the men ride the 'man-trip' to go in to work, they sit on only one side of the car, so no one will be under the live wire. That's for safety."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Coal Camp Girl by Lois Lenski. Copyright © 1959 Lois Lenski. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
1. Bucket,2. Coal,
3. Payday,
4. Hardship,
5. Pony,
6. Winter,
7. Disaster,
8. Summer,
9. Lost,
10. Rescue,
11. Wedding,
A Biography of Lois Lenski,