A Forgotten America

A Pictorial Tour of the Coal Camps of Appalachia.

Over the course of more than 100 years, this region and its people were defined by coal mining. The rich seams of coal from these mountains produced high-quality steel. Coal built and fueled the railroads, grew our cities, powered the factories, and became the primary energy source for our country.                                                   

From these remote mountain hollers, fortunes were made and lost, boom towns thrived and died, and coal fed the energy needs of a growing nation. Throughout a century of change that saw wealth, war, the Great Depression, and the rise of labor unions, families in the coal camps struggled and survived with little more than strength of character and goods from the company store. For over a century, they got up and went to work in the darkest of places to provide for their families. They kept us strong through two world wars, built our infrastructure, warmed our homes, and were the very backbone of our economy. The ones that remain here have been a blessing to me, and my time here has been a privilege.

Born and raised in a coal camp in Hemphill, West Virginia,  his father worked the coal fields there for 30 years until a collapse broke his back.  He returned to farming to survive, and died from black lung disease in his 50's with no compensation for the accident. 

The Church in the Wildwood

 I didn't have to ask if he was in the mines. These men had quickly become easy for me to identify. The older miners. Miners of low coal. Their backs are bent. Their hands are gnarled from a lifetime of hard labor. And of course the oxygen. Black Lung. The retirement package for those that survived the early mines. I introduced myself and asked how long. How long were you in the mines? His answer was quick and direct. "46 Years."
He had a strength about him that defied his tired body. James Kinney. But he was always Mr. Kinney to me. 
Born in one of the shacks at Haytertown, an early 10-man mining operation started by Charlie Hayter in the 1920's near Trammel, Virginia, a tough place to enter this world.
His Aunt Nora acted as midwife as she did for nearly all the children born in the Trammel camp. 
Conversation came easily, and in short order he had ripped the oxygen tubes from his nose and took me on a walk through what was left of Trammel coal camp. 
"This used to be a boomin' place."
As we made our way through the camp, a neighbor lady came out and scolded him for not having his oxygen on. He waved her off and never stopped talking. Taking me across the street to the old company store, his breaths were short and shallow and we sat on the front steps and rested. 
"You couldn't load much. Hell, half the time we were crawlin' on our bellies." Low coal seams around 30 inches in these early dangerous mines. 46 years. 
As he began to fade, we started to make our way back to his little camp house, walking side by side. As we neared his home he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. "My friends call me Bugs" - But he was Mr. Kinney to me. His oxygen tube reached the front porch and he followed me back out to say goodbye. "Come see me"... and I walked up through the camp knowing those days were few. 
A return to Trammel found him gone from this forgotten place. A neighbor shared the sad news.  

"This Used to Be a Boomin' Place. But When the Mines Pulled Out ... Trammel Just Went to Hell."
God Speed Mr. Kinney

At highest risk underground are the roof bolters. They clock in and enter into freshly cut areas, drill deep holes in the roof and install long bolts and plates, securing the areas for the other miners. Roof collapses account for the majority of accidents and deaths in the mines. These men are smart and skilled and go about their work quietly, listening for any sound that might portend danger. After 40 years, there's a story in their eyes.

A young SW Virginia Coal Miner walks to catch a ride to work in West Virginia.  "My dad worked in the mines here.  So did my Grandfather.  We hear the talk of bringing coal back... but we know it's not coming back.  We work where there's work. I wish it was coming back, but we know it ain’t."

West By God Virginia.  A crowded coal camp once filled this valley.  Working our way up through the Winding Gulf, it's just so far gone.

Two saloons, The Cricket 1894 (left )  and the Elkhorn Saloon 1883 (right ) .  Visiting with the towns part-time peace officer across the street he said he expects to find them both lying in the road one morning.  A life-long resident shared with me "every time they opened a beer joint we'd build 2 churches ! "

March 13, 1884, shortly after midnight this camp was startled by an explosion in the east mine.  At least 114 souls were trapped deep in the earth as a mixture of methane and coal dust burned through the night .  The fires burned underground for weeks, preventing any rescue efforts.  This was early.  No cemetery existed in the camp.  The company allotted a portion of its landholdings for the burial of the dead and after more than a month these people watched as their husbands, fathers, sons and brothers were finally removed from the mine.  At least 2 were 16 year old boys.  One was 13.  An African American female and her baby were not included in the death count.  They were buried side by side here in a mass grave.  They were immigrants from Europe, African Americans from the deep south, and native Appalachians. 

An isolated little coal camp tucked in tight to the tracks.

"They gave us these stickers and told us to put 'em inside our hardhats. It was just our job." - Mr. Jenkins. American Coal Miner. 40 years.

The two company stores at Jenkinjones. The second is barely visible to the left of the other, they sit face to face in a quiet overgrowth. Once part of the big Pocahontas Fuel Company, these two buildings were the center of business, providing everything from jail cells to postal service. Jenkinjones, West Virginia. American Coal Camp. Just a few remain here.

All throughout these mountains are the relics. The remains of an Industry that built a nation.