Audio

Oral History Project - Miller, Pauline 1980

New River Gorge National Park & Preserve

Transcript

Interview NRGNPP 016

File NRGNPP 016-T

TAPE SIXTEEN

Mrs. Pauline Miller  

Interviewer:   

Paul J. Nyden  

Beckley, W. Va.

October 30, 1980

 

PN: Mrs. Miller, I was wondering if we could just start off, if you could say where you were born, when you were born, and where you grew up.

PM: I was born at Talcott in Summers County on September the third, 1910.

PN: And how long did you stay in Talcott?

PM: Well, my parents moved to the country when I was three years old, and we lived in Clayton and then moved to Pence Springs, when I was about seven, and lived there till I was 12 when we moved to Terry, West Virginia on New River, coal mining town.

PN: And what did your grandfather do?

PM: My grandfather, he was a carpenter. And they called him a coffin—maker. He had the tools of the trade, you know. In those days, when someone died, they would come to him for, to make their coffin. And he worked on the railroad when John Henry: he was the legend of John Henry, you know — he was there when John Henry beat the steam shovel, or the steam drill. And he used to tell us stories about those days, and it was very interesting. And then at that time, it was a well—known fact among the people that lived in the area, and it wasn't so much a big thing except they were sorry John Henry died, you know. And later it became quite a legend, and there's a song about it. And some people doubt the truth of it, but the basic facts are true. He did beat the steam drill and it caused his death.

PN: That was when they were working on the Big Bend Tunnel?

PM: Mm, the Big Bend Tunnel. After I was 12 years old, when my father moved us to the coal fields, and to me it was quite a change from Pence Springs, because everything was clean and nice up there. And we moved down where the coal dirt was, and it took a while to get used to it. But it was quite a nice town after we got into it. We had to walk down the railroad tracks; there was no road. And our furniture was moved in by a boxcar; the train moved our furniture. And at first, I thought it was going to be real gloomy and sad for us, but the social life was real good. We had, and most of the people that lived down there, went all out to educate their children, and participated in school activities, and church affairs. So it was not too bad after we got used to, adjusted to the coal— town life.

PN: What was your first impression, when you came into Terry?

PM: I thought it was the end of the world. I thought I would never be happy there. But it was all right after I adjusted. And usually, the superintendent and his family was the one that set the social life, the stage, you know, for the social life.

PN: Really?

PM: Usually they did. And there was usually a doctor that lived either in the town or at Prince. And our teachers always boarded in the town, when I was a girl. We had a boarding house, and it was all, and education went to the ninth grade. So the children were really taught. We had some very good teachers in those days. And when we got through a grade, we usually knew it.

PN: You went through the ninth grade there?

PM: Mm. And it was pleasant. The school activities were always nice, you know. And the town was clean after I really got a good look at it. We had board sidewalks, sidewalks to the town in those days. And that’s where my husband, it's where I met my husband, you know, later. His father was a lumber man, and he ran a sawmill. And it was located below Terry [meaning up the river toward Thurmond]. And there was also the Gwinn farm, on down below Terry, and they were related.

PN: Towards Royal?

PM: No, 'on down toward Thayer. Do you know where Thayer is?

PN: Yes.

PM: But as I was saying, the side of the river that Terry is on. Well, you've heard of the old McKendree Hospital?

PN: Yes.

PM: Well, much of our social life revolved around McKendree and Terry, you know, because the ones that lived down in that area, we would all get together for a, like Haloween. I was just thinking about tomorrow night. When I was a girl, we usually had fun at the, one of the Gwinn homes, or over at the social room at the McKendree Hospital. And we were a laugh too, we really dressed up for it, you know, to suit the occasion. And it was all very enjoyable. And now the Gwinns are related to my husband's side of the family. And it's real nice down in there. And we have a family cemetery down there. You know, it's in Fayette County, on below Terry, you know, where the line, where you cross the line from Raleigh into Fayette. And it's the first house that's still kept up. It was two families, and they located down there before the Civil War. And we 've, of course, the Gwinns finally sold the property to one, the upper, we called it the upper Gwinn and the lower Gwinn family. And the first house was sold to a relative — Jerome Stone — and he keeps it up real nicely. But the other one has been wrecked by vandals. And two beautiful homes down there.

PN: How did you get over to McKendree?

PM: In a boat.

PN: In a boat?

PM: Mm. We had trains in those days, and you'd catch a train to McCreery, from McCreery to Prince, and then you'd ride a train from Prince to Mckendree. See, it was a big hospital and it was a real good hospital. And they trained the nurses there in those days. Some of the Gwinn girls went in training there. And I really feel like the state should have kept that building for something, cause it was a good one. I don't know why they permitted it to be destroyed. I know I got in touch with Governor Underwood when he was our governor [elected in 1958 for one four year term]. And I let him know, see I was the store manager at that time at Terry, and bookkeeper, and postmaster. And people would bring me this information. And it worried me, because it was such a fine old building. And I wrote to our governor, but I think it was already, these people that destroyed it had gone in, took the pipes out, the water pipes.

And it had those huge columns; it was really a colonial—looking hospital. And they had took some of the pillars, front pillars, away, you know. I don 't know, some builder, I imagine. But it was ruined, and I imagine that's the reason the state just didn't do anything about it. And it was located in such a, the trains didn't stop there anymore, and I expect that it had a great deal to do with abandoning the use of it.

PN: Let me just ask you a few questions about dates.

PM: OK.

PN: You said you came to Terry when you were 12, so that was 1922?

PM: Mm.

PN: And you went to school there in Terry, right?

PM: I finished my, you know, the grade there. And I was married when I was 17, so I finished my high school after I was married. But not all at once; I did that here in Beckley.

PN: When you finished the ninth grade in Terry, did you immediately start coming to a school in Beckley?

PM: No, no. No, I didn't, after I, when I got through the ninth grade, I, my, I had appendicitis. I enrolled in a school in Beckley, and had an attack of appendicitis. And I was in McKendree Hospital in October, and it was quite, it was a bad case of appendicitis. My appendix ruptured. So I was out of school most of that winter, and next year, I got married.

PN: Was that 1927 you got married?

PM: Mm. I ran off and got married. My parents really, they didn't like it at first. But I married such a good fellow, they liked him very much, so it didn't. He wanted me to finish school, so gradually I did. And I didn't graduate from the twelfth grade. In finally took, got one of these books, you know, G.E.D.? Went through that, and took the test. And I always helped the schools though. I substituted; it's terrible, but they let me do it. Some might say it's terrible, but in those days you didn't really have to have a college education. See, I am 70 years old. And when a teacher would be ill, that's when I was in my first married years, you know , 17 , 18, 19. I would substitute, help the teachers out, you know.

PN: In Terry, this is?

PM: In Terry. And I gained quite a bit of experience like that. And it was, I always enjoyed school. And I was always studying, always studied a lot.

PN: I was going to say, what did your husband do?

PM: He, when we first married, he was, he would block with the electrician. He was assistant electrician, and he ran a motor in the mines. And when he was killed in the mine, he and two other men were operating the mine. See, the coal company, as long as it was running by the people that owned it; see, we went through, I was sure to have that somewhere, I meant to bring it in here — the number of coal companies, you know, one would close out and another one would come in. And as long as it was a big company — what we called big company — that operated with a full crew of men, he mostly ran a motor. Then he became a foreman for the, I believe that was Maryland and New River that was operating at that time. And they closed down in 1948, and that really left the men without any work in Terry. And they went other places. My husband went to Layland, and he was outside foreman up there. But we still lived in Terry, and we owned this [referring to her house in Stanaford] and rented it, you know. My boy…

PN: This house, you mean?

PM: And my son was born in 1950. All three of my children were born and educated while we lived in Terry. And it, I 've had people say —"Why, I don't see why you stay down there with your children. Why don't you move out of there?" Of course, the road came in in 51, you know.

PN: From McCreery to Terry?

PM: From McCreery to Terry.      

But we had come up here, we moved up here [to Stanaford] after my husband went to work at Lay land. We came back into this house, and the coal company — there was no one running the mine [at Terry] at the time. And you know how vandals will go in and tear up houses? So the company, Mr. Miller, Erskine Miller, he was no relation, but my husband had always worked for that company most of his life, he noticed that we had left down there. [He] lived in Staunton, Virginia. And he wrote the general manager, Gilbert Smith, and told him to get Harry to go back to Terry and look after the town. And that's why we went back.

PN: What year was this?

PM: That was 52. And we went back down, we was away from there almost two years. And the company came and asked us, the general manager asked us if we would go back and put the houses back in liveable shape, you know. And we did. And the girls were, my oldest daughter was in her third year of high school; the youngest was in, let's see there's eight years between em — I guess she was in the third grade. And we went back down, and the girls finished their schooling from down there. And Linda, she went to Concord College. And they've done very well; I had no trouble with my children. They were real good and I well, I don't mean they were good but 1 think most of the young folks at that time in the town down there, the ones that really lived there. The ones that tore the houses up would come in from other places, you know, and break windows. And then the Army camp was down there in 52, you know.

PN: In 1952?

PM: Mm.

PN: Where?

PM: Across the river from us. I forget the year they left. Seems to me like it was 54, something like that.

PN: What were they doing there? Do you know anything about that?

PM: Engineers. It was my, my daughter Janet married one of the soldiers — Nelson Duncan. They live in Ashland, Kentucky. And it was the Engineering Corps from somewhere in Virginia.

PN: What types of things did they do when they were there?

PM: They built bridges across the river. And when they first left, the main group of them – they had a nice Army camp across the river — and when they first moved from there, they kept it active for a year or two, and came back and trained. And brought one Of those amphibious ducks or whatever, I think that's what they called it. That was a, it would float on the water and then go up on the land. Do you know what I am talking about?

PN: How many people were there at the camp, do you have any idea?

PM: I’m not sure.

PN: Is there anything else about the Amry camp that you think is important, that you remember?

PM: They really improved that road into Terry. I remember that. And we would send them invitations when we had something special at school. And the captain and some of the boys would come over. Naturally, they became interested in our young ladies in Terry. And that created, some were glad and some were sad about it. At least five of the girls married boys from the Army camp. And they were pretty well—behaved. We didn't have any trouble with the group that was across the river. It wasn't a large, the Engineering Corps, you know, whatever number they used in that, it wasn't a large group of men. And they were all very well—behaved. And my son—in—law, the one that is my son—in—law now, he operated a bull— dozer for the Army camp. And he's the one that cut some extra roads for my husband. My husband was always trying to improve the town, you know. So the camp, the Army, the captain gave my son—in—law permission to use the bulldozer down there, and he just cut roads wherever my husband asked him to.

PN: And he was running the mine at the time?

PM: My husband, he and two other men.

PN: For another company, or did they own it by that time?

PM: They leased it from the Dunedin Coal Company.

PN: You said that he was killed in the mine in Terry?

PM: Yes, he was operating, see, there was just the three of them. Of course, there was other men that worked for them. And that was in 1965. And he was running the motor. And something happened, and it jumped the track. And that's how he was killed.

PN: Did the mine shut down then, in 1965?

PM: No, the other two men continued to operate it for a couple of years after that.

PN: Let's go back to the 1920s for a minute. You said you were married in 1927. What year did you start working with some of these jobs that you mentioned? Were you a school teacher right then?

PM: No, I wasn't a school teacher; I just substituted. I didn't work.

I just took care of my children at home, you know. And I didn't actually hold a job down, because there was no jobs in Terry other than just substituting at school once in a while, and just something like that. And store personnel, they had all their people, you know. And my husband, he provided the living. And it was after we went back to take care of the town that I took care of the books.

PN: This was 1951?

PM: '52.

PN: 52? And then you took care of the books and was post…

PM: Post office and ran the store, operated the store.

PN: How many years did you do that for?

PM: Let's see, I operated the grocery store ten years, was a postmaster till 1970; and after my husband was killed, I continued to take care of the town rent the houses for the company and, you know, I collected rent, and took care of the bookkeeping, whatever labor had to be done for the coal company. Till 1970. I still, I didn't retire, I didn't take the postmaster's retirement; I retired on my husband's annuity. And I still work a day, now and then, at the post office.

PN: In Terry?

PM: Down there sometimes, and at Cranberry. 1 can, by not taking my retirement from the post office, it left me free to work extra, and I still do. And during the time after my husband and I went back in — to take care of the town, the old church burned that we had always used, you know. So we built a new church. My husband was one of the trustees. And you'd be surprised, that's one town that really goes all out for whatever you need in the way of funds for, to build the church, we had no trouble. And when it was finished, it was debt—free. It's a nice little church.

PN: When he was working in the Terry mine between 1927 and 1948, did you live down in Terry that whole time?

PM: Mm, lived there.

PN: And then in 1952 when you went back, were you living here in Stanaford or were you living down there?

PM: We lived, we moved from this house and rented it again.

PN: So you lived back in Terry then?

PM: See, we had a huge building where, it housed the store, and the post office, and the general office. And up over it was 12 rooms. And we lived up over it.

PN: How many miners were working there in 1952?

PM: In 1952, there wasn't very, I think there was 30.

PM: 30. And at the time, during the time that my children were growing, you know, before the big mine closed down, they usually employed, but I really don't know the number. I imagine Mr. Phipps could have given you that, did he?

PN: I think he may have mentioned it, but I forgot what he said.

PM: Seemed to me like 100 or 150, something like that.

PN: Back in the twenties and the thirties?

PM: Yea. We had two mines. Had a mine in the middle of the town, and then the one that you pass the tipple going into Terry. Now that mine was operating and the one in the mid, the one in the middle of the town was really owned by the Cook and Carter. You know the Raleigh County Bank, Raleigh County National? Well, Mr. Carter that owned the mine at Terry when we first moved in, that is in the middle of the town, he's the founder of the bank —— the Raleigh County Bank. And the two boys are still living, Leonard and Leslie Carter.

PN: Do they still own the bank?

PM: They live down In Beckley. Well, they 're stockholders, you know.

PN: Did Carter own other mines, in addition to the one at Terry?

PM: I think he did. I don't re, you know, I was, at the time, I didn't pay attention. I just knew he owned that, and 1 never asked anyone.

PN: Let me go back, I was going back to the twenties again. In 1927, and that period of time when there were about 100, 150 miners working there, how many people would you say lived in the town?

PM: Well, there was about 60—some houses; I don't remember exactly because some burned and some were torn down. And they, some of the houses there would be two families to a house. So I really don't know just how many families did live there at that time. And then there was the sawmill below the town. And they had about 70 men employed, you know, they had a lot of people. And they had a small town — lumber camp.

PN: They did? Below Terry?

PM: Below Terry.

PN: Did that have a separate name?

PM: No, it was called Terry.

PN: It was part of Terry too.

PM: Mm.

PN: How far away was that from where you were living?

PM: Oh, about a half mile.

PN: Did the railroad go down there too?

PM: My father—in—law of course, he wasn't a father—in—law at that time — had a little track and they called it a "dinky You've heard of that?

PN: Yea.

PM: And they had an engine, you know, that pulled the logs. It joined the railroad where the coal train that would come to pick up the coal, you know, at the tipple? Well, the dinky track came on down and connected with the, the big engine track.

PN: Did many people have gardens in Terry back then?

PM: Everybody did. They had cows and chickens and…

PN: Hogs?

PM: Hogs, they had, yes.

PN: What types of things did they grow in the garden?

PM: Just about anything that you, they had corn, tomatoes; of Course no one grew any wheat, now. We did that back in the country. But corn and potatoes and beans and just whatever we needed, you know, in the way of the food line. And we canned. I can remember Dad saying one time they didn't have to have a lot of fertilizer. The ground was rich; 1 guess, where the top soil washed off the mountain, it made the ground real rich. And we had nice gardens.

PN: Was there any Black people living in the town back then?

PM: Oh yea.

PN: Where did they work?

PM: They worked at the mines.

PN: Did any work at the sawmill too?

PM: Now, I'm not sure about that, because they closed the sawmill down about the time Dad moved away from there and was gone from there. We were gone from there two years. When we came back, the sawmill had moved out. So I really don't know how many people, whether they had Black people employed down there or not. I know my husband's father and the Gwinns built a school, and hired their own school teacher. They built a school between the sawmill town and the Gwinn farm.

PN: Who was that school for?

PM: It was for the ones that were employed there.

PN: At the sawmill?

PM: See, it kept them from having to come all the way to Terry to school. So they built their own school house, and hired their own teacher. You could do it in those days, you know.

PN: Was the sawmill operating back in the twenties?

PM: Mm, it was still operating in the twenties. They had their own store.

PN: They did?

PM: Mm.

PN: Did they have their own church down there too?

PM: No, they all came to our church.

PN: What kind of a church was that?

PM: It was a Baptist church.

PN: Did the Blacks have a separate church?

PM: Oh yes, they had a separate church. Had their school, their own school.

PN: Was that a Baptist church too?

PM: The Black church, you mean?

PN: Yes.

PM: I really believe it was. Now, I'm not sure. I’m trying to remember, there used to be a person that, a Black women, lived here, Mrs. Reed, that lived down there that, I'm afraid that she, it seems to me she passed away not too long ago. The Black people and the white people got along well. When they, when they would have a school program or something, the white people attended. And they came to ours. We were still separated, you know, by the system. But everybody, I know there was a family by the name of Stewart — Black family — and they lived on what we called the horse track. They lived on one side of the horse track, and this big white family lived on, they were both big families. And the Stewarts had a store, and a little, operated a restaurant. Now it wasn't called Stewart, the man's name that operated the restaurant. Now that was one of his girls. And they moved up here to Raleigh, and still had a restaurant, you know. I know once after my husband and I got married, we went to the restaurant and ate.

PN: In Raleigh?

PM: Mm. Because they were real fine people.

PN: When did they move to Raleigh?

PM: It was before 1 married. I think it was when the mine closed down. You know, when a mine would close like that maybe it would be down for several months the people that were industrious that wanted to make a living would leave. That's why it was hard to be permanent in those days, because maybe a mine would close, like Terry would change companies not owners, but they'd lease to another company. One company would close down. Maybe it 'd be down for three or four months.

PN: Before it opened up again?

PM: Mm. And a fellow would have to go somewhere else to make a living, and he usually moved his family. There was not good roads and transportation like it is today, you know. Everybody didn't own a car.

PN: Was there a basically a separate section of town where the Blacks lived in, from the whites?

PM: When I first went there as a girl, they lived in the middle part of the town. But when we, later on, when I told you we moved away and was gone a couple of years - I was 14 years old - let's see, it was before my thirteenth birthday, I guess that the mines made a changeover. When I was 14, Dad moved up above Thurmond. And we was up there, oh, not two years, about a year and a half, and moved back to Terry. And during this time it had changed hands, and Mr. Phipps was there when we went back. And I know the Black people were moving in to the, among the white people. They just rented them a house wherever they had one vacant.

PN: When was that?

PM: That was about 1926, I'd say, 1926, '25 and '26. I know these Reeds that I mentioned to you, and a Johnson family, the Reeds lived about three houses from where we moved in Terry. And there was another family, they were musical. I'll never forget, there was a fellow with one arm — a Black man he could really play that piano.

PN: With one arm?

PM: With one arm. You should have heard him. His hands were just like, just seemed like they moved like lightning, and he'd use that elbow. It was amazing, can't remember his name.

PN: Where did he play, like in the churches or schools?

PM: Well, they entertained people in their home, and he'd go to the church, wherever he was needed, wherever anyone wanted him to. He was real, he was a brilliant man.

PN: You talked about the union a little bit before [before the taping

began), when your husband joined the union. When was that?

PM: That was 1930 and '31.

PN: What had happened in the twenties? When you moved in there in ' 22, was the union destroyed right then?

PM: Well, the union had just been destroyed when Father moved us down to Terry. And I remember they were, still people were scared. And 1 'm going to tell you something that just came to me. When we first went down there, they checked everybody closely, when they first came to that town. Because they's had lots of trouble, you know, and there'd been fighting at Royal, you know, the name of Royal? Well, the miners lived in tents along the river over there. And some of the hid outs in the rocks, up among, up above those cliffs, you know, on the river bank?

PN: During the 1921—22 strike?

PM: Yes. And they, they would shoot back and forth; there were shots fired. There was a movie theater and a store at Royal. And the miners would watch. And they did as much of the shooting as the company men, you know, they called them company, sort of like security guards now.

PN: Baldwin—Felts?

PM: Baldwin—Felts, I was trying to remember the name, that's who it was. And they would shoot, and there was people injured. I don't believe anyone was ever killed at Terry. That was in the strike. Different ladies that was, their husbands vas striking, you know, and they were living in those tents? One woman told me they got very cold, because cold weather came and they was still in those tents. And she said they had a really rough time, because they wouldn't let them back into the houses, you know. And I really don't know just when the strike ended, but it was in the cold months it was over, you know, and they got back into their houses. Now there was quite a difference when the union was formed in 30 and 31. That's when my husband, I know his first, I that believe it was 1930, October, it seems to me, he paid his first union dues. And it was a dollar.

PN: What was the difference that you saw?

PM: Well, the men started hiding around to meet. They thought they'd have to, because of what happened before. Well there was quite a difference in the company management this time. Our general manager found out, and he lived at Fayetteville, that the men were organizing. He came down there and he told, he got them together. And he said, "Now, men, I don't want to hear of you hiding around to organize your union. He said, "Pick whatever building you want to. Go on into it, and organize. I 'm not against your union." And they had no more fear of being fired, or whatever.

PN: Was that after Roosevelt came in, or before?    [This question is asked since it would have been most unusual for a local union to have been organized in this area prior to the inauguration of Roosevelt and passage of the National Recovery Act.]

PM: He came in in '32; that was before.

PN: This was before?

PM: Mm. And I know when things, I remember once the first strike that, this was Roosevelt, was during the war, they struck. The miners did, you know. And I remember what they were getting $7.15 a day. My husband, he wasn't a foreman then; he was a motorman. And they, when they made the agreement, you know, when they reached a contract agreement — the union and the coal operators — the men wouldn't go back to work until they got their OK from their leader, who was John L. Lewis. And Gilbert Smith called down there and told the men that the agreement had been reached, that he would be signing it for their, for his company, you know, the next day, for them to go ahead and get the mines ready so they could go back to work. See the war was going on. And the President of the union at Terry  see, there separate unions then; every coal camp had a separate organization  and our, well my husband's union President called up Beckley, you know, where headquarters is, and told them that Mr. Smith had told them to go ahead and get the mine ready.

Because he didn't want to tell the men to go on in until he got the OK from Beckley. And I never will forget, I was over there at the office, when the call came, when the President of the union called Beckley. It was a Mr. Shepherd, Wally Shepherd; he said, now Mr. Murdock I believe the man's name that was President. He said, “Mr. Murdock, you go right ahead and let the men get the mine ready, because Gilbert Smith 's word is as good as another man's signature.” He said, “If he said he'll be here to sign it, he'll be here." So the men just took it like that and went on to work. That was the kind of a man that we had for a general manager.

PN: Did they have a union in there until the mine finally shut down in 1965?

PM: Yes, it was still a union. And it was operated by small operators after that. And they had a union contract.

PN: What was the local number, do you recall?

PM: 7086, I believe, I believe. I know that was one of the union numbers.

PN: Back In the twenties, when you were living there, were there many immigrants from Europe working in Terry — from Poland, Hungary, or Italy?

PM: Two.

PM:One of them we called "Little Frank”.

PN: Where was he from?

PM: He was from Hungary. And there was a family of Guracks. And they raised their children there, and my sister married one of them. And she's postmaster at Piney View.

PN: What were they, Polish?

PM: Polish, mm.

PN: And what did they do at that time? What did Frank do or what did…

PM: Frank, he loaded coal. You know, they hand loaded. He was really a hand—loader. And the Gurack family, some of them were machine men —worked with machinery — it was a large family, and some of them were coal loaders. I can remember before, once, when the mines closed down, my husband and my father      work was so bad everywhere   they walked from Terry to Wright. Have you heard of Wright, down on the, now it's above McCreery. They walked at least four mile a day to work.

PN: Two miles one way, and then back?

PM: Yea. And they made, my husband made $2.78 a day, and my father loaded coal for 20 cents a ton. That was in 1929. My father moved my family back to the farm. In 1929, they went back to the farm because work was so bad, you know. And people just couldn't find work. That lasted, oh, until fall. The mine closed down in March and it reopened in September. So that's how long it was down. A lot of people were hungry. That was really during the Depression, you know, that's when everything went bad.

[End of Tape]

NOTES:

Mrs. Pauline Miller and Mr. Herbert Garten (Interview Five) are sister and brother.

Description

Postmistress, Bookkeeper, Company Store Operator, Terry 1920's - 1970's

Date Created

10/30/1980

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