The Black Angel

The Black Angel

Suzanne Marsh

5 February 1910

Ernest, Pennsylvania

Maddie Matthews rose early to begin the breakfast oatmeal. She lit the old coal stove. The wooden floor of their house in Ernest, Pennsylvania, was ice-cold. Ernest was a small town established in 1903 by the Rochester and Pittsburgh Coal Company, a “model village.” The village had two churches, a school, and a community center. Rochester and Pittsburgh Coal Company developed the site, opening four drift-type mines in the upper Freeport E coal seam and building 274 beehive coke ovens.

Maddie, after starting breakfast, woke her husband, Clint, son Lucas, and two-year-old Maggie. Clint hated these cold mornings; he hated the snow. He began to cough, he hurried to grab a handkerchief, she noted the black color of the mucus; Maddie gave him a look:

“You should see the doctor, Clint. That sounds terrible.”

Clint knew she was right, but he also knew that the cough was a risk he took every day in the coal mine. Black Lung was what the miners called it. It was a hazard of working in the coal mines.

Maddie packed Clint’s dinner pail, then filled “buckets”, which resembled a double boiler with two compartments; these were composed of very thick sandwiches. Hot tea and coffee were then put in the bottom to keep dinner warm. Clint carried large quantities of food, just in case of a cave-in...God forbid. Food was sustenance, Clint reminded himself. His appetite was off for some reason.

Clint quickly downed the oatmeal, grabbed his pick and shovel, carbide for his lamp and powder, and squibs for “shooting down” coal. He strode out of the house toward the coal mine; he then turned to the left and into the doctor’s office. Doc listened to his chest, asked for a sample of phlegm. The signs were present, and Clint had black lung:

“Clint, at the end of the shift, I want to see you back here. I am going to admit you to the hospital for

a few days' rest. I don’t want any arguments.” Clint nodded sheepishly at the doc.

“Okay, but don’t tell Maddie why; she has her share of problems.”

Clint turned right, heading toward the coal mine; he handed the doctor’s note to Frank Underwood, the foreman of the first shift. Frank took the note, scanned it, then nodded to Clint to acknowledge he had read it and understood. Clint turned to Frank:

“Will you go see Maddie, try not to alarm her about the Black Lung.”

Frank nodded:

“I’ll go after shift, I’ll have Mary go with me.”

“Thanks, Frank.”

Maddie began her morning chores after getting Lucas off to school. Maggie followed and watched as Maddie did the dishes, dusted, washed the dishes, all the household chores. Maggie wanted to play. Maddie told her that once she was done, they would go outside for a short while. Maggie giggled, her curly blond hair bobbing up and down as she laughed with glee.

Early in the afternoon, the clerks in the company store set out fresh fruits and vegetables, and most of the miners would stop there to bring home something extra for dinner. Lucas watched the clock closely; it was almost dismissal time. The men in Ernest 2 mine were ready for their lunch break and lowered the coal.

The noon whistle sounded, Clint took out his pocket knife, and he began carving a piece of coal into an angel for Maggie. He did not give it much thought, a black angel, that was different. He continued to carve, first the halo, then the face, and the body. He knew that Maggie would like it. Lucas was seven now, and Clint hoped he would not become a miner, that he would at least go through high school.

There was no sound of an explosion, and the ground shook under the miner's feet. Clint knew they were trapped, so he began to tap, hoping someone would hear them. Tim Harbison, the motorman, came into the tunnel, heard the yells for help. He turned his motorcar loaded with ore and quickly returned to the top of the mine. He sounded the alarm. Help came from every direction: relatives and friends; anyone who could use a pick or shovel.

Mary Underwood made her way quickly to Maddie Matthews' house. Frank, she knew, had been in the mine at the time of an explosion. She also knew that Clint Matthews was in Ernest 2. The explosion was a mixture of dust and accumulated gas, near No. 5 room off No. 11 entry. Gas had never been detected in that area of the mine before.

Rescue teams formed quickly at the mouth of the mine as word began to spread about the explosion. Crews from mining towns came in cars to aid in the search for the miners trapped inside the mine. They found Frank Underwood, his pocket watch read 3:20pm, the time of the explosion.

The general superintendent of the mine arrived; he began to organize the rescue efforts. Maddie waited at the mine entrance with Maggie on her hip, tears flowing down her cheeks. Fear had gotten to her this time; she hated coal mining, she hated living in Ernest. She wanted a better life for her family; she hoped Clint would listen to her pleas this time.

Clint continued to tap a signal that they were trapped. He sat down next to one of the other miners; he began working on the Black Angel once again. The air inside the mine was still good, and Clint’s breathing was somewhat labored, but thus far, he was fine. The miners still had sandwiches; they pooled all the food so everyone had something to eat and drink. Time dragged as they waited for rescue. The miners above ground dug with picks, hoping to find at least a few miners still alive.

Clint heard the picks:

“HEY, WE ARE DOWN HERE, HURRY!!!”

He heard the picks hit harder than ever; the rescuers were almost through the rocks above the men. Clint clutched the Black Angel in his tightly; thank God he would see his family again. Suddenly, there was a ray of light, and the ray grew larger. A rope was thrown through the opening, and Clint sat almost directly under it. He grabbed it, tied it around his waist, he tugged three times to indicate he was ready to be pulled out of the mine.

Maddie saw Clint emerge from the mine, and he was safe. Maggie put out her chubby arms to be held. Clint began looking for Frank. Mary was standing over his body as Clint approached:

“Oh God, Mary, I am so sorry.” Mary turned to face Clint, her eyes welling with tears. She saw the Black Angel that Clint was still clutching in his hand.

They buried Frank in Saint Bernard’s Cemetery, Indiana, Pennsylvania. As the miners and their families strode away from the gravesite, Clint reached into his jacket pocket, his fingers wrapped around the Black Angel, and he placed it on the grave:

“Black Angel, we have said our goodbyes, Frank and I. I will miss him; he was a good

foreman and all-around good person.”