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Coal Mines of Pittsburg County
Oklahoma
As Oklahoma's mine inspector, union leader, and member of the Oklahoma Constitutional Convention, Peter Hanraty was a tireless advocate for the protection of the working man in Indian Territory and during early Oklahoma statehood. In 1873 at the age of nine he began working the coal mines of his native Scotland, in a dangerous, unhealthy environment, for low wages and no benefits. When he reached the United States at age eighteen, he developed the desire to improve workers' conditions, especially in the mines. He was blacklisted for his efforts in Pennsylvania and Ohio, so he traveled to Indian Territory and worked in the most dangerous mines in North America at the time. He was shocked by conditions in the mines. Because the area was not a state, there were no laws protecting miners, and only the most desperate came to what is now southeastern Oklahoma for jobs. A single explosion could kill more than one hundred miners. By experimenting at night when there were no workers in the mines, Hanraty found that the coal dust clinging to the walls and ceilings could cause a spark to become a raging fire that ignited huge explosions. Keeping the dust damp contained the fire and prevented an explosion from being so large. His discovery would save an untold number of lives. At the age of thirty-four Hanraty led a successful strike, and in 1907 at age forty-three he was elected vice president of the Constitutional Convention for the new state. He wrote most of the sections in the Oklahoma Constitution dealing with worker benefits, safety, and protection. Hanraty lost both legs in a mining accident but continued to be a true champion of the working man until his death in 1932 in McAlester. Peter Hanraty was interred at Memorial Park Cemetery in Oklahoma City.
Always one of the most hazardous occupations, coal mining was particularly perilous in Oklahoma. During the 1867 to 1906 period Indian Territory's mines were the most dangerous in the United States, with more than thirteen miners dying per million tons of coal produced. Next door in Kansas, the ratio was less than half that in Indian Territory. In the Indian Territory period there were ten major coal mining disasters that killed 187 men, but this figure is misleading as at least five men had to die for an accident to be considered a "major disaster." Hundreds more died alone or in small groups of two or three. Not until the miners organized and demanded safety improvements did Oklahoma's mines become a somewhat safer place to work.
There were numerous ways for a miner to die in the underground or shaft mines. Rockfalls, "windy shots," coal dust explosions, and noxious gases were only a few of the dangers faced. By the 1880s the term killed by a "windy shot" was common in mining reports. A "windy shot" occurred when a miner used too much black powder or improperly tamped the charge down before setting off the explosion. "Windy shots" would spew sparks into the mine, frequently igniting methane gas, coal dust, or both. These explosions could travel through miles of tunnels and kill and maim miners long distances from the initial blast.
One of the most tragic disasters in the 1880s occurred at Savanna. There a mine explosion in 1887 killed eighteen miners. The initial explosion killed six workers, but another dozen miners attempting to recover the bodies were killed by afterdamp, a deadly gas composed primarily of carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide that followed a blast gone awry. Exposure to afterdamp caused miners to lose consciousness in seconds and could cause death in minutes. After the disaster the mine's owners ceased operations at Savanna and hauled the miner's homes to Lehigh.
The worst mining disaster during the Indian Territory period occurred in Krebs on January 7, 1892. At the Osage Coal and Mining Company's Mine Number Eleven a "windy shot" set off an explosion that quickly swept through the entire mine, killing one hundred men and injuring another two hundred. The blast left a mass of dead bodies at the bottom of the elevator shaft. The disaster was the third worst in the United States at that time. After the tragedy at Krebs, the federal government established a mine inspector position for Indian Territory. This development did little to reduce accidents as the inspector did little more than chronicle disasters, rather than prevent them.
Oklahoma's mines were notorious for being "gassy." One of the most infamous was Rock Island Railroad's Mine Number Eight. After numerous earlier methane gas explosions, a blast there in 1910 killed ten miners. The mine ultimately had to be abandoned due to the large amounts of methane. Properly ventilating mines to prevent methane gas explosions was a continual problem that would plague many of Oklahoma's coal mines.
One of the state's most horrific mining accidents occurred in McCurtain on March 20, 1912. On that day a blast ripped through the San Bois Coal Company's Mine Number Two, killing seventy-three men. The blast was the seventh to occur at the mine in a decade, each one resulting in fatalities. The explosion was so massive that witnesses reported that a fifty-foot tongue of fire had erupted from the mine's entrance.
The establishment of
an Oklahoma Mine Inspector's Office
scarcely reduced the
number of
accidents.
In
fact,
the
fatality
rate increased
in the
1920s. Gas
explosions in
1920 killed
fifteen at a
mine
in
Alderson
and
another ten at
Degnan. Eight
miners
died in a gas explosion
at
McCurtain
in
1922. In
1926
a
blast at a mine
in Wilburton
killed
ninety-one. In
1929 an
explosion
killed
sixty-one at the
Old Town Mine in
McAlester. Twenty-five of the victims were
buried
in a common grave. The
calamity created forty-six widows and orphaned 178
children. The explosion, which occurred more than a
mile
from the mine's
entrance,
killed
dozens but did minimal
damage
to the mine. In 1930 an
entire
shift
of thirty men
died as
the result of
a gas explosion in a McAlester
mine. Safety reforms eventually made
the
mines of
Oklahoma somewhat
safer, but they
remained
a
dangerous
place to earn
one's living.
BUCK CREEK
COAL MINING CO. v.
JOHNSON
1947
OK
185
181 P.2d
1003
Evelyn Johnson, the widow of
Thomas J. Johnson, deceased, brought
this action for
herself and for the
minor children of
plaintiff and
deceased to
recover
damages for the
wrongful
death of
Thomas J. Johnson,
deceased
On
the
trial
of the
case the evidence, in
support
of the allegations of the
negligence alleged,
disclosed
substantially the
following
facts:
That Thomas J.
Johnson
was 41
years of age at the
time of
his death, was in good
health
and
sound bodily
condition with a
life expectancy of
23 years; that he
was
employed
by
the
Buck Creek Coal
Mining Company
as a
"rope-rider,"
his
duties being to
take cars into the
mine, load them
and
return them to the surface; that
the
cars
were operated
on
a narrow gauge
track laid
from
the surface down into the
mine
along
the
slope therein and were
controlled by
a steel
cable on a
winch
located
in a building on
the
surface near
the mouth of the
mine; that in
connection
with
the
operation of these cars
into and
out of the mine the company
had
installed a
signal system
paralleling the tracks
on
which the cars ran
consisting of
two
wires electrically charged
and
attached
to
posts
along
the
slope of the
mine,
the wires being
placed
parallel to
each other and
three or
four inches apart;
that the
rope-rider had what
is
called a bell
stick which
was used
by him to
communicate
signals to the
hoist
engineer in the
building on the
surface, he
being
the only
employee having a
bell
stick; that
the railway track and
the
signal wires
were extended from
time
to
time to keep
pace
with the
progress
of
mining operations
but
were never
extended beyond the
point where
current mining
operations
were then
in progress for
technical reasons shown in the
evidence but
unnecessary to
here set
out; that on
the date of the
accident
the
slope
in
the
mine had
reached a
distance
of
approximately 600 feet
from
the
surface and the
track and
signal wires
extended
about
the same
distance; that on the
morning of
the
accident, in addition
to
deceased,
Thomas J. Johnson,
the
others
employed
and then working in
the
mine were Joe
Comisky, Eddie
Richardson, Ted
Lunsford,
and
Raymond
Wiles; that
Comisky and
Wiles were working in
what is called
Room 5
near the foot
of the
slope and
deceased
brought a
car from
the
surface
to Room
5, where it was
loaded with
muck and
rock from the
mining operations;
that
deceased then gave a
signal to
the
hoist engineer and the
car was
moved out of
Room
5
and
up the slope a
distance of
approximately 70
feet,
where
it was
stopped upon a signal
from
the
deceased, and Wiles and
the
deceased
began
loading, rock
from
the sides of the
slope into the car;
that Wiles was at the
rear end
of the
car and
deceased was
at the
front end of
the car;
that
the
ceiling of the slope
at
this
point was
less than five
feet
high and the signal
wires were
near
the ceiling and
about eight
inches
from the west wall of the
slope; that
in lifting
rock
into the
car
the
deceased
stood
with
his
left
foot
inside the west
rail of
the car
track with his
knee or leg
against the front
bumper of the
car; that
while
in
this
position and
while in the
act of
lifting a
rock into
the car,
the car suddenly
started
forward up
the
slope
knocking
deceased to his back
and
running over him
resulting in
injuries which caused
his
death; that the
other men
working
there were unable
to remove
deceased from
beneath the car
without having
the
car
moved
backward down
the slope;
that
this
was
accomplished by Mr.
Wiles
taking
hold
of the
two
signal
wires
and bringing
them together
with his
hand thus
closing the
electrical circuit and
giving the
signal to
the hoist
engineer
on the
surface to
back the
car down the
slope;
that
the signal wires
had
been
installed by Mr.
Richardson
under
the direction
of
Mr.
Hetherington,
the
mine boss, and he testified
that
they
were
installed parallel
to
each
other,
one on
each side
of
the
supporting
post; that there
was
testimony
to the
effect that on
the morning of the
accident the
deceased changed the
position
of these
signal wires
on
the post at
the
point
where the
accident
occurred,
placing
both wires on the
same side
of the post and one above
the
other.
This was
the basis of the
defense on
contributory
negligence, it
being
the
theory of
defendants that
in
raising up to load the
rock in
the car
the
deceased came in contact
with
the
lower wire with his
head or
shoulder thus
pressing the
wires
together and
causing a
starting
signal to be
given to
the
hoist
man on
the
surface. Other than
this
testimony there
is
nothing in
the
record
which
accounts for
the
sudden
starting of the car at
the
time of
the
accident.
Source:
Oklahoma
State Court
Network
document
(portion of text
relating to
the
death)
A Description of the Explosion
IN THE
Mines at Savanna, Indian
Territory
APRIL
4th,
1887
By Mrs. M. Snodgrass
Submitted by: Marca Lee McInnes
Murray
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Poem by M. Snodgrass
follows
It was ten o’clock at night
When this dreadful thing befell
The camp was wrapped in slumber
When there came the blast of hell.
We knew 't was an explosion;
Oh, Heaven, the No 2!
And men are buried there alive.
Oh God, what can we do?
The engine house was all in flames—
‘T was fearful to be seen.
They drove the people back in crowds,
They feared the magazine.
The engineer stood at his post.
With fire above, around,
Until the whistle, three times blown,
Gave its last warning sound.
Hundreds stood in biting frost
For hours, to watch the fire.
Women mourning for their lost
All anxious to enquire---
For news of those in No. 2;
Men in a living grave,
Whom willing hands, and anxious hearts
But sought a way to save.
Who are the fatal six?
Was asked in awe-struck tones.
Hugh Dooly, Charlie Parsons
Bert French and Davie Jones.
Poor Willie Barns, Tom Jared, too;
Oh, what is to be done?
The slope is closed, to reach the men
We must go through No. 1.
Ten men, whom we should honor,
While heroes we admire;
Unheeding dangers warning
The deadly damp and fire,
Went down the slope—but six returned
This tale of woe to tell
Their comrades brave, o’erpowered with damp,
Lay dying where they fell.
My tale of horror is not done;
Unroll your parchment, Fame---
Eight other names which I now tell,
A place their own will claim.
George Hill’s aged father’s warning fell
Upon unheeding ears,
He scorned his wife’s sad pleadings---
Mocked at his children’s fears.
Jack William’s little orphan girls,
Did he forget them? No.
But he went with Tommie Needham
To the black death below.
Poor Billie Hudson’s wife may weep---
As many parents, sister, brother;
James Ward’s four children mourn his fate
With their heart broken mother.
Robert Miller’s wife and babes----
But oh his mother dear;
This boy she loved so fondly,
This boy whose word of cheer,
Always spoken, when from work
He passed her door at night;
Her heart is broken, death alone
Can set sorrow right.
Pat Fagan’s wife pleaded piteously.
“You are sick and weak, you know,
Oh, stay at home, or you’ll go in.”
But the boss told him to go.
Tom Daniel’s wife, and children five,
Believed him safe and well.
When he’d been hours lying dead
In that black pit of hell.
These twelve men died in No. 1;
Alas! They died in vain!
Of the six men killed in No. 2
Not one did they regain.
In these fatal mines, eighteen lay dead,
Eleven widows mourn-----
And thirty orphans weep the sires
Who never will return.
And gentle Christ, we do believe,
Thou wilt be kind to them,
From fellow feeling, if no more,
For they, too, died for men
April seventh, two more found
And in waiting coffins placed;
Men say we cannot see them---
They cannot be washed or dressed.
Burt French and Willie Burns, poor boys,
Are done with life’s sad bother;
Place Burt beside the other men,
Lay Willie by his mother.
How Willie’s poor, old father,
Will weep his youngest born.
Sisters dear, and brothers, too
His sad, sad fate will mourn.
Good Friday mourn, Hugh, Dooly
And David Jones were found,
The open graves stood ready,
They were soon beneath the ground.
But, oh! The breaking hearts,
David’s wife and children small;
And kindly strangers friends,
Who mourn poor Dooly’s fall.
‘T was Dooly whom Tom Needham
Said he’d find or die in trying.
Oh, friends! All honor to them,
They were “buddies” e’en in dying.
How on Good Friday evening,
From that black death below,
The last two are recovered!
But their faces none may know.
Miles Jared’s wife in anguish,
Shrieked aloud in her despair,
And her baby boy was frightened
The grief he could not share.
Mrs. Parsons, twice bereaved,
By explosions in this place,
For one moment looked on Charlie
Saw his poor distorted face.
Pat Glaney’s waiting bride
Will never see him more;
He fell with James McInnis*
Beside that fatal door.
Mike Kelley’s lovely wife now grieves,
With helpless children three.
Poor Freddie Bartz fell with them ----
Oh, God, the misery!
Now who will volunteer?
We may find them still alive.
Nine men responded to the call----
Of the nine, but two survived!
And still the summons came
For other men to go.
And did not in vain,
‘Til twelve lay dead below.
You may call these men “fool-hardy”
Aye, say, as some have said,
“They should have known better,
Have known the men were dead.”
I call them heroes, and I’d ask
To leave here for my heirs,
To crown a life of honest toil,
No prouder name than theirs.
Now, comrades brave their bodies sought,
And many ----scarce alive----
Were borne out to quickly return
As soon as they’d revive.
Twelve bodies have been carried out,
At risk of precious lives.
Twelve graves stand open, and around
Are parents, children, wives.
Comrades, friends and neighbors,
Hundreds from far away;
We’ve never had a funeral
So sad as this to-day.
We ne’er before such sights have seen,
And may we not again,
Three thousand people, men do say,
Were in that funeral train.
Odd Fellows, Knights of Labor,
And Knights of Pythias, too,
Followed their brave comrades;
And gave them honor due.
O, sad, sad day! April sixth,
Eighteen eighty seven,
Savanna laid her heroes down,
God rest their souls in heaven.
God Pity all the mourners!
And all who here do dwell;
For mark my word, in this we’ve heard
Savanna’s funeral knell.
The shades of night are falling,
As with a mournful sound;
The clods fall on the coffin lids
As we stand in silence ‘round.
“Earth to earth,” and is this all?
Oh, friends! It cannot be.
There surely is some recompense
In God’s eternity.
Now honor to our heroes dead,
Who died their friends to save!
Honor to the fated six,
Seeking bread they found a grave!
And honor to the living,
The men of sterling worth,
Whether of Savanna or McAlister,
Who brought the bodies forth.
For many from our sister town
Did risk their lives that day;
Like brothers, with our men went down,
And brought the dead away.
And honor! We will give
To the bosses, one and all,
Who did not shirk the fearful work,
But went at duty’s call.
