It was, as Larry had warned, a good step out of our way to visit the memorial to the miners killed in the explosion at the Upper Big Branch mine. We followed the Big Coal River as it snaked its way through one mining community after another.
A damaged swinging bridge led across the river to what looked like a whole community of empty houses.
Whitesville has definitely seen better days.
Most of the storefronts were empty, and on this Saturday night the streets were almost deserted.
Larry remembered when tractor trailer trucks lined the main street and the sidewalks were crowded with people; today the lone stoplight seems like a leftover from those better days.
But the memorial is a work of art, well-kept and striking in its position by the side of the road. Another car pulled away as we arrived and I was glad to know we weren't the only visitors on this rainy evening.
More than just a listing of names and dates, the memorial includes a history of coal mining in West Virginia as well as a detailed account of how the explosion happened. For someone like me, both are valuable tools to understanding the tragedy and the reasons for it. Sadly, it was neglect, ordered by the mine operators, of standard safety procedures that caused this accident. While culpability was charged and some went to jail, even justice cannot bring back the men lost. One of them, I remembered, is buried in Larry's family cemetery. As far as we know he is no relation to Larry but must have some connection to someone in the Holstein family.
We left, both of us quiet as we thought about the miners, their families, the memorial.
The road twisted and turned and then opened up to several long straight stretches. This is the area known as Twin Poplars, named for two huge poplar trees that once stood at either end of the straight stretches of road. I remembered when, about 10 years ago, I told ghost stories at the middle school in Whitesville. the principal told a story about Twin Poplars. As I remember it, he said that the area was popular for drag racing back in the 1950's. One night two boys faced off in the game called "Chicken," where the drivers head straight for each other until one "chickens out" and veers away, avoiding a collision. (Flashback to James Dean.) This time, neither one veered off in time, and both were killed. The principal said that if you are on the road late at night on the anniversary of the accident, you may see a car coming right at you at full speed, but it will disappear just as you are sure you're going to die. I have never found any other version of his chilling tale.
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| Twin Poplars, WV |
Southern West Virginia is struggling, and yet there is such heart there, and such welcoming courtesy. This last was exemplified by the man I asked for directions to the memorial. "Yes ma'am," he said, "you're goin' the right way. Just keep goin' til you get to Whitesville. You can't miss it." He touched the bill of his cap, and pulled away in his 1980's primer-painted Ford pickup.
Manners. Even hard times can't erase them.
Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
That area has known more than it's share of sadness and hard times. The folks who remain are a special breed.
ReplyDeleteVery true, Steve. Good people, certainly. And a wild beauty to the land. It's ironic that a place so rich in nature should be so hard up. And yet it has been that way pretty much since the mines first came in. With abundant natural resources one would think the local people would prosper, but as we know it doesn't often work that way with extractive industries.
ReplyDeleteWhat a tragedy, can't imagine working in a mine. We need to keep phasing the mines out, not lowering standards so more will operate.
ReplyDeleteWest Virginians are strong hard workers. Unfortunately, many won't move to have better lives. Sad but true!!! Difficult to understand because I have done it and it works! Many won't encourage their kids to leave.
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