Audio
Oral History Project - Garten, Herbert 1980 Part 1
Transcript
Interview # NRGNPP 005
File NRGNPP 005-T
TAPE FIVE
Mr. Herbert Garten Interviewer:
Paul J. Nyden
Piney View, W. Va. 25906
September 6, 1980
PN: Mr Garten, maybe you could start off by just mentioning when you were born, and what towns you lived in when you were growing up.
HG: Well, actually, I was born in farming country up in Summers County, a little community called Clayton. I was born in 1912, July the 28th, and we lived in that area until I was, oh, about nine, I believe, around nine years of age. And we moved down here to Terry.
PN: When you were nine?
HG: Down here on the river, and I had my tenth birthday a few months after we moved down there. There was actually two camps at Terry. Well, there was, it was a divided coal camp. There was two different companies that owned that down there, and still, I guess, it's that way now. I don't know whether there's any work going on down there now. But at that time, it was a pretty busy camp. And they had a big lumber camp just below Terry.
PN: What was that called?
HG: That was the Bond Lumber Company. And it was all a part of Terry;
they all used the post office, but it was separate from the coal company.
And they had their own company store. Of course, the kids went to school there in the coal camp.
PN: In Terry?
HG: In Terry. They had a, at the time we moved there, the company that operated the mines, they called it the Cook and Carter Coal Company; of course, the Carter was owned, a part of that property, the lower end of it; and then the other side was owned by the Erskine Miller and Sproul people.
PN: Sproul?
HG: Yea, from Staunton, Virginia. And of course, this Cook and Carter, they, the part that they didn't own, they leased from them, you know, and operated the whole thing, you know. That was two separate operations; what I mean, they had two different tipples. But it was all run by this same company. And I don't know, they had quite a few houses. And they had some that they called the new houses. And they hadn't been built too long when we moved there, and they were pretty nice houses. But most of the houses that miners lived in was Jenny Lind construction, you know. In other words, it was just shanty— type buildings; the wind could blow through, you know, if you didn't have a lot of building paper on the Inside. They put up building paper Inside to keep It in the cracks In the floors, and you could feel the floor give, you know, when you walked over, just single floors.
PN: Was the building paper like wallpaper?
HG: No, it was just old brovm—colored building paper, you know, all of it the same color. Actually it didn't have any color; I guess that's just the way it come off of the roll.
PN: Would people put wallpaper on top of that sometimes?
HG: Well, most of them couldn't afford wallpaper; they'd just put that up. And then some of the houses, your better houses, the ones that they spoke of as the new houses, they plastered them. Pretty good houses, double floors, they were pretty nice. Of course, we later moved into one of them, as soon as we could get one empty.
PN: When were they built, the new ones?
HG: I really don't know; around 1920, though, I believe. They hadn’t been built too long when we moved down there, and we moved there in the early part of the winter of 22. And I was ten years old that July. And these houses had already been built, and people was living in them, but they were still fairly new houses.
PN: So you lived in the farming country, though, before you moved to Terry in 1922?
HG: Yes, yes.
PN: Was your father, did he work on the farms then?
HG: Well, yes, he farmed, and then he did different kinds of work. He worked quite a bit in timber; he used to cut timber quite a bit. And then he was a foreman in the woods. But there was better money in the mines, and he had worked in the mines, off and on, you know, before, so he decided just to go to the mines.
PN: Where did he work in the, was it in Summers County he worked in the mines?
HG: No, he came down here to Terry. And we moved to Terry from Summers County. I don't know of any mines in Summers County; now there may be in some places, I don't know.
PN: Did he start working in the mines for the first time when you moved to Terry?
HG: No, he had worked before; actually, he worked in the mines when he was only about 11 or 12 years old, or worked around the mines, you know. It used to be they'd hire boys, you know, to work, to do things in the mines and around the mines.
PN: What, to work as trappers and stuff?
HG: Yea, they'd work as trappers, and helpers, you know. And people would take them in; they used to use what they called "back hands.
miner would hire a boy; I used to have some friends that I worked with that had gone In and worked as a back hand when they was only nine years old. That's kind of unbelievable, you know, that a boy that size could work in the mines. But they'd hire them, and pay them, say, 50 cents a day or something like that, you know. And they'd have three or four places, and hire three or four of these boys to work back hand for them. Well, the miner, of course, he would, most of it was pick work then; this miner, he would put in the cut and shoot the coal, you know, and keep it loose for them, and he'd set the timbers. And that kept him pretty busy, you know. And these boys, of course, they'd just shovel the coal in the cars.
PN: They would load the coal?
HG: Yea, they'd load the coal. And of course, he checked each car, you see. He was the only one that had checks, you know. Back then, you used a little brass, brass check, you know, and you'd hang that on the car; it had your number on it you see.
PN: And you'd get paid…
HG: Yea, and he was the only one, of course, that had these checks. So he would check every car, and if a boy was a pretty good shoveller, why he could make him a right smart bit of money. They'd pay him 50 cents a day [laughing]. But they stopped that when the union got back. Of course, back when they was organized before, you know, when they come out on strike, and they broke the union in 1921.
PN: Yea, that's what I wanted to ask you, to describe that whole…
HG: Well, of course, what I know about it is what the people talked about, you know, when we moved in down there, because it was still fresh you know.
PN: But the union was there in Terry?
HG: Yes, they had the union there in Terry. And they had some battles, you know, with; they used to have, the companies had what they called the Baldwin—Felts thugs, you know. And when they started having trouble, they wouldn't allow two men to stop and talk, you know. If two men stopped to talk anywhere, why these thugs would come along and break it up. They had quite a bit of trouble, and quite a bit of shooting, and men beat up, you know. And they had quite a battle over here at Stanaford. Now I don't know whether there's any of those old—timers left over there that know anything; there may be some that you could find. A good way to find out about that would be to talk to somebody over there in the local. If you could find one of those old local members, and he might could tell you about maybe somebody who lives there.
PN: A couple of my good friends work there now; maybe they would know some of the old—timers.
HG: Some of the old—timers who was there at that time when they had that battle there.
PN: Was Mother Jones there then?
HG: Well, she came through, you know. That was during the time when she used to travel and come through. Now, I never met Mother Jones, but I heard a lot of talk about her, and I knew some people that had, you know. But I remember them talking about, during that strike, you know, they starved the men back to work, of course. The International sent a boxcar—load of food up here.
PN: To Stanaford?
HG: They sent it to Beckley for this area. And the operators got an injunction. They went to court, and of course, they owned the courts, you know. And they got an injunction, and put a padlock on that boxcar and posted guards, and they couldn't get their own food. They let it sit there till it spoiled.
P N: It belonged to the union and they just let it spoil?
HG: Well, they got a court injunction. They couldn't do that now, you see. But then they could do anything, and they did It. No matter what people talk about how good the companies are —— they wasn't so good. 1 learned some of that when I started to work in 1927. I started in the mines, I was only 14 years old when I started in, a while before my fifteenth birthday.
PN: Where did you work, at Terry?
HG: I worked at Terry; that's where I went to work, at Terry. Went in with my dad. I didn't want to go to school, and I didn't have sense enough to know that that was the best for me. But since I didn't want to go, we had to ride a passenger train from Terry up to Beckley, you know. After I graduated from the eighth grade, then I had to go to Beckley; and 1 didn't like that. Had to leave home before daylight, and get back home after dark. And I wanted to go to work. So he took me, and let me, what he thought, I think, 1 t m pretty sure what he figured, cause he didn't like the idea at all.
PN: Your dad?
HG: Yea, he wanted me to go to school But he thought that he 'd wear me out, you know, and I'd get tired of it, because he was one of the best coal loaders that they had at that time. And all I did was help him clean up coal that he had been, you know, the cuts; they'd put him in a good, big cut; and he'd been cleaning it up by hisself. And all I did was help him, you know. But naturally, in order to prove to him that I could load coal, I tried to load my side of the car. That was wishful thinking. He would load most of the cars from his side, and about all I 'd do was finish it off, "top it out" they'd call It, on my side. But I stuck with it pretty good.
PN: What was the situation with the union then? It was totally non— existent at that time?
HG: Yea, there was no union.
PN: Did people still talk about the union a lot?
HG: Well, yea, yea. People still talked about the union, but they didn't have any idea that it would make a comeback, you know. Of course, the company, if they decided to cut wages, they just cut, you know, and there was nothing you could do. They paid what they called the 1917 scale; that was, I guess, the last base scale they had, you know, before they broke the union. So they still used that as a sort of a base, and they paid that 1917 scale for a few years some places; now I don't know whether they did it everywhere or not, but they did down there. And then after a while, they begin to cut wages. And of course, if a man, now like a trackman, I knew a trackman, that, and by the way that man could give you some information too. And he's still living; he lives over here at White Oak; J. L. Whittington is his name, they call him "Bud," "Bud" Whittington, and he's getting pretty well along in years. And he’s another fellow that I learned a lot from about laying track, he and Morris Martin both; they were two of the best trackmen I 've ever seen. And I worked with both of them as track helpers, helping them; they used to hire a helper, you know.
PN: How were you paid? Were you paid salary if you worked on track then?
HG: Yea, you were paid by the day?
PN: But they were still paying by ton for the…
HG: For the coal. But all work like that, that was called company time, you know, and anything like that was paid by the day.
PN: How long was the day then?
HG: Well, it was supposed to be eight hours, but then they got started.
When I first went to work, it was eight hours.
PN: Was that portal—to—portal?
HG: Well, no. You worked inside eight hours, and then however long it took you to get out, that was extra. Your day started at your working place. The motor crews, their day started where they got their empties, the parting where they got their empties. It was several years, you know, before they got this portal—to—portal. Even after we got organized again, they still had that system. You worked, you started your day at your working place. They had cut it down, though, in one contract. We had got the day cut down to seven hours, you know. That was before they started the portal—to—portal. And then they got the portal—to—portal, you know, where your day started outside at the driftmouth and it ended there.
PN: That was during the war, wasn't it?
HG: Well, yea, yea, I believe it was, when we got that first portal—to—portal contract; It was during the war.
PN: In 1927, when you started working, would the union, the union wouldn't have any organizers around at that time, would they?
HG: No, no. It was just as if the union didn't exist then. Now and then you'd hear about somebody talk about a little activity, maybe in some of the other states, you know, in Ohio or Pennsylvania or somewhere like that. But it was pretty well guarded, you know, not too much talk about it, and you didn't put a whole lot of stock in it, you know. But then in 1933, why, then it begin to come to life.
PN: Could you describe exactly what happened then in Terry? In 1933, and the whole process whereby the union…?
HG: Well, we, the organizers begin to come in, and we would meet, we had a meeting or two. A fellow lived in a house that was outside of the coal camp, and we met down there. And they we had a few meetings on the river bank.
PN: Is that because the company didn't own that?
HG: Well, we'd meet down, they said: "Meet below the high—water line and they couldn't do anything about it. t ' Of course, If they had of known about it, they would have managed to do something, you know. But they didn't know about it. Then another thing, the days of the thugs was past; they didn't have them, you know. Maybe they'd have a constable or two, something like that, you know; but usually some of them was in sympathy with the men and wouldn't of looked too hard to break up a meeting. But we managed to get together that way, and got organized, and got a charter, and once we got a few locals organized, why, then we was able to get authority to, and got the union recognized. And then we come out on strike and got a contract.
PN: Why would you say that the constables would be more friendly?
HG: Well some of them were out, actually, most of the constables were workingmen theirselves, you know; it was just a job for them. Sort of a, wasn't so much a company guard, as it was just a local police, you know.
PN: It was elected by the town?
HG: No, no, they was usually appointed, but…
PN: By the mayor?
HG: I imagine that the coal company had a whole lot to do with the man that was appointed. They'd recommend somebody, but usually the man was a pretty reliable man, you know. That is, the ones that I knew. Now there may have been places where they were strictly company men, but I didn't know any of them. But down here at Terry, and some of these smaller camps, where I had any association with. Now, here on Piney River, just up from the mouth of Piney River a little ways, was Mason Coal Company; was the same company that owned Terry, you see. And they were pretty favorable people to work for; they didn't try too hard to keep the union down. In fact, Mr. Gilbert Smith from over here at Fayetteville he's dead now, been dead for a few years but he was one of the, he was the general manager for that Erskine Miller Company, you know, and he would come around each, they had several operations around here and down on New River, down on Fire Creek, that belonged to them. And he would make regular visits, you know; and he got to, he was a fellow who would associate with the men, you know, and get to know the men pretty well, and he was pretty well respected. And he was a fellow who believed in being fair to his men. So that's one reason, I guess, that there wasn't a whole lot of problem that way in these camps. 1 've heard about some trouble that they had in some of the other coal companies, but what I heard was just hear— say. I don't know how true it was, but I can imagine it was pretty true, because of what had happened before.
PN: Where did the Baldwin—Felts come from mostly?
HG: I don't know.
PN: From the outside, usually?
HG: I wasn't acquainted with any of them; to me, it was just a name. Seems to me like, though, that they brought them here from out-of-state someplace. But, I may have known at that time where they were headquartered; but I think it was sort of an outfit that supplied people, you know; the company was associated with them, kind of an agency.
[interruption with children]
PN: In 1921, the strike began in 1921, right?
HG: Well, that's a time that they had so much trouble. I suspect you've heard them talk about all the fighting they did over on Cabin Creek, over in there. Down here, at Willis Branch now, that's down near Pax, you know it's quite a bit of fighting went on down there. And over here at Stanaford, they had quite a battle over there. And Raleigh, there's a tower there that was built, at the time it was built, it was built to mount a machine gun on; that's what they used it for. Now, they've put a little extension onto the top of it; actually it's a stone column built up pretty high where they can see all around the area, you know. And now they 're using it as a base for an electrical tower. Yea, they put a little tower on there, for to string electric wires on it.
PN: Did you say there was less fighting on, you know, along the New River coal towns than in these other places.
HG: Yea, it seems to me like there was.
PN: Why was that, do you have any idea.
HG: Well, I guess because it was a small company; I don't know. I just figure that's more. Now there was some of it that had a little action. Now, over at Royal, I don't know what company had Royal at that time, but the thing had gone on until some of the men was beginning to want to go back to work, you know. They had just about starved them out.
PN: In Royal?
HG: Yea, well, in most of these 11tt1e places. Well eventually, that's what put them all back to work, you know. There just wasn't anything else to do, only go back to work. There was a, they had to ride these man—hoists, you know, up the mountain; the coal camp's on the bottom of the hill. We had them down there at Terry.
PN: Man—horse?
HG: Man—hoist, you know. Hoist—car, you know.
PN: To get to the driftmouth?
HG: Yea, you'd ride a hoist—car up this incline, up to the top of the hill where the mine was, you know. So a load of these, they'd haul ten men at a time. And a load of these men, they loaded up —— they was going to go back to work and they loaded up on this hoist—car there at Royal. And across the river there on top of that Stretcher Neck Ridge there, somebody opened up with a high—powered rifle and shot holes in their dinner buckets. He was pretty good with that thing. He unloaded that carload of men. He didn't hit anybody; he just shot holes in their dinner buckets.
PN: He shot at their dinner buckets?
HG: Yea, so that delayed that for a while. Nobody tried that again for a while, I knew the fellow that was accused of doing that, and he was the type of fellow that I wouldn't doubt that he was the one. Everybody thought that he was the fellow that did it, and I expect he was. Oh, he was a strong union man, and he was hot—headed. And the whole thing fitted him pretty good. He could use a rifle, and whoever did that was good with a rifle, because that's a pretty good shot from over there up above that tunnel, you know, across that river over there at Royal. And whoever did it, buddy, he had a keen eye and a steady hand. But that's about the only really serious incidents that I can remember anything about down there. There may have been some others that I don't know about.
PN: In 1933, when the union was reorganized, were a lot of the people who had been in the union before 1921 still around?
HG: Oh yes, yes. That's what helped get the thing started and make it strong, you know, because when they saw a chance, they grabbed at it.
PN: They were just waiting, more or less?
HG: Yea, yea, they were still there, yea. I worked with quite a few of them for several years after that. And this fellow, that I give you his name there, he was one of them. He was a fellow that, he could lay more track, and lay it good, he could lay a piece of track, a switch, and never stop the motor from running over it; and that's, he's the man I learned to do that from. I learned how to do it after that. He could lay more track, and lay it good, than anybody I 've ever seen. And I know after I went to work in the mines, he had a pretty big section, keeping the track up on, and they was getting good coal off of it. My brother—in—law was one of the motor runners. And he very seldom had any trouble at all, cause the track was laid right and he could get over it without any trouble; and he was getting lots of coal. Well, the man asked for more money. He was being paid $4.55, I believe, a day. And he asked for, seems to me like it was $6.50 or $7.00, something like that. He'd been doing two men 's work. Seemed to me like he wanted $6.50; he needed more money because it was too much working. They wouldn't pay it. Well, he said, "Give me a place to load coal. so they give him a place to load coal, and he was a good coal loader. And he just went right in, loading as much coal as any man on the job. They hired a fellow that was supposed to have been a good trackman; he come with a good recommendation from, off of Laurel Creek supposed to have been an exceptionally good trackman. And they hired him, and he couldn't keep it up, so they hired another trackman. And the two of them couldn’t keep it up. So they told Bud, “If you'll go back to work, take it back, we’ll give you your price.” He took It back.
PN: This is in the twenties when there wasn't a union.
HG: Yea, yea. He, that was one man to another man negotiations. But they paid him.
PN: How long did you live in Terry?
HG: Well, we left there and went over, I was telling you about living over there on Dunglen Mountain; we lived over there a couple of years, and then came back to Terry. And my dad left there in 1931, around the first of March 1931, and went back up to the farm.
PN: He left Terry?
HG: Yea, he left Terry and sent back up to Clayton. And that was when the Depression was just getting started good, you know. Mine work was bad, so he went back up to the farm.
PN: Did you go with him?
HG: No, I stayed down there, and I got married in August that year. 1 stayed a while up at, up there at Norville Mason Coal Company; and then a couple of year went, we moved, that's where we went to housekeeping down at Terry. And we stayed there for a few years. I was living down there when we organized.
PN: In Terry?
HG: Yea. I served as, let's see, I was Vice President. And then I served as Recording Secretary of that local. And I acted as President for a while. Not very long, because we elected an older man, one of the old—timers. I still served as Vice President, and took care of most of the business; but he was actually the President. A fellow the name of
Lonn Neely.
PN: How long did you work at Terry then yourself?
HG: Well, kind of hard to say. I worked, long about that time, about the time we got the union going good, I was working for, you know, the Carters that 1 told you that owned one side of it. Well, they was operating their side of it, and I was working for them. And the Erskine Miller Company from old Duneden over in Fayette County, they worked out their mine over there, the old Duneden Mine; it was over there near Rock Lick. They owned Rock Lick too; I don't know now whether Rock Lick had worked out yet or not. But anyway, this Duneden group, they brought some of their men from over there, quite a few of them, along with their super— intendent and mine foremen from over there; they came over and started up their side. They had to build a tipple though to get started, because the old tipple had caught fire and burned down. But they built a new tipple, and they got started along about 1934, it seems to me like. And they had both operations going at that time. But I had worked between there, and up at Wrights, and back and forth two or three different times.
PN: Where?
HG: Up at Wrights, Mason Coal Company. I worked back and forth between the two for, off and on, I don't know, several years. And then I left and went a, let's see, in 1935, I went over to Black Eagle. The man that had run Terry down there for three or four years had gone over, his father owned a mine over there…
PN: Was it in McDowell County or something?
HG: No, that's over In Wyoming County, just up from Mullens, the old
Corinne mines. And he went over and, it had been down for quite some time, and he left Terry and went over there and started that mine up. And there was, oh, 1 expect four or five of us fellows from Terry went over there and worked for him a while. But I come back after. let's see, I went around, about this time of year, or a little earlier, maybe in July of '35, I believe, I went over there. Stayed about a year, and come back. They call it Black Eagle. That's about the time that started the Blue Eagle, you know, Roosevelt started the Blue Eagle? Well, he started this mine up, and he called the company the Black Eagle Coal Company. And that's what they call the name of the place now; it's the Black, Black Eagle, that's the post office there I guess. But I came back to Terry, and stayed a while. But it, Terry gradually worked down to where it wasn't much there. I worked then from one place to another. I worked over here at Stanaford, at Skelton, Sprague, worked at Layland. I guess the last mine of any size that I worked at was at Layland. I worked over there a few years before they had that big cut—off in '53.
PN: Did you finally retire from the mines in 53?
HG: No, I left here in '53 and went to Toledo, Ohio. Stayed up there three years, worked on the B & O Railroad up there. I stayed three years and got to where I had to decide whether I wanted to move up there or come back, and I didn't want to sell my property and have to try to buy something up there, and j us t put down roots again. I didn't like that idea. So a friend of mine sent me word that he had taken over a small mine out here at White Oak; and if I'd come back, he'd give me a job. so, I was waiting for something like that. After you begin to start downhill, you know, why, it's getting kind of late to put down new roots. It just don't set well. I 'd hit too many hard licks here.
PN: Did you like it better here than in Toledo anyway?
HG: Oh yes, you know, this was my home. I grew up here. I expect if the situation was reversed, why, it'd be the same way, you know. After you get in your forties, you spend 40 some years in one area, and then you get completely out of the area, why it just don't go so easy. Takes a lot of getting used to.
PN: Why do you like West Virginia better than Toledo?
HG: I don't know. I liked Toledo all right; I just didn't like the idea of having to sell out and move up there. As long as, for a while after I started working there, when the lakes would close, they'd furlough the youngest men, you know, and I could come home and spend two or three months in the wintertime at home, and draw unemployment, and get along fairly good. But then it got to where I didn't get that time off, to where I had enough seniority to hold on year around, so I had to make a decision. And I had been promoted to conductor, and it was a case of either come back home or make home up there. The idea, of course I couldn't afford to leave and come back, the way the situation was, unless I had a job you know. Because you couldn't just take off hunting a job in this area at that time, because there wasn't much. And every mine had a long panel list, you know, men furloughed. And the only chance to get a job was from somebody like him that had opened up a small mine, you know, made hisself a job and had enough where he could hire a few men. And when he sent me word that he had this mine, and if I 'd come back, he'd give me a job so I just came back. Worked for him till that fall, and he shut down. [laughs] Then I worked around these punch mines, first, when most of the people around that had these, opened up these little punch mines, I knew them, you know, and worked around them; and I didn't have any problem getting a job from one place to another, you know. Work out one punch mine, and somebody else over here, he’s opened up one; well, “Herb, come over here and work for me." And finally, the first of the year 1961, a fellow wanted me to come down; I was working for a fellow over here on the other side of Layland, had a little punch mine, helped him open it up. He wanted me to come over there and help him build his tipple, because he didn't know anybody else that could help him build a tipple. And I went over there and helped him to build his tipple, supervised it. And we got a mine opened up, and I worked for hm, and bad weather set in, and he had his haul road didn't have anything on it. It was just mud, and it got to where he couldn't operate. So a fellow that was working down here had a mine down here at Maben, punch mine, pretty good punch mine, he wanted me to come down there. He needed a man that could run a shuttle buggy and a cutting machine, so I went down there and worked for him. I only worked a few days, and I got wrapped around that cutting machine, like got tore up. And that ended my mine career right there.
PN: What year was that?
HG: 1961, February the 15th. I got hurt pretty bad. I spent quite a while in the hospital out here. Six months from the day I got hurt, I had to go back in traction, almost lost my leg, wouldn't heal. But they finally got the thing to heal, and I still got it.[laughs ]
PN: I was wondering If I could go back and just ask you a few questions about Terry and how it looked when you moved there in 1922 and, you know, in that period. I was wondering if 1 could ask you some questions about that. How many houses were there would you say?
HG: Actually, 1 don't know. There in the coal camp itself, I expect there was, oh, I tm sure there was more than a hundred, but I don't know just how many more. And then they had a, they had a, a camp up on top of the mountain there then, what they, up on what they called No. 3, a few houses up there, maybe seven or eight. And then there was, well of course, the lumber camp down there, they had a few houses, but I don't know just how many.
PN: How many people would you say lived in Terry at that time?
HG: Well, probably you figure families you know, and at that time families were larger than they are now, and most of them was fairly good—sized families, you know. I expect more than 300 people, I don 't know.
PN: There were about a hundred houses?
HG: Well, just a rough guess; there might have been more than that .
[End of Tape 5A. Interview continues on second half of tape marked 4B/ 5B.]
Description
Terry, Coal mining - life in the towns, Terry, Baldwin-Felts operations
Date Created
08/06/1980
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