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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.]
Oral History Project - Garten, Herbert 1980 Part 2
Terry, Coal mining - life in the towns, Terry, Baldwin-Felts operations
HG: I was just going to say I don't remember where we left off.
PN: I think we were talking about the houses, and how many people; and you said there were about 300 people, maybe more, in Terry. Let me just ask you a little bit about the houses. You said they had the old Jenny Lind houses, and then new houses?
HG: Yea, the most of them were Jenny Lind, and then you had some few that were built later, you know, that they did a little better job on. But that used to be the standard, you know, years ago; when they 'd open up a mine, they'd come in there and usually they'd put a saw mill and cut the timber and saw the lumber and build houses kinf of like a lumber company, that's the way they'd do. They'd go into an area to cut timber, you know, and they'd throw up what they call sawmill shanties. Well, these coal company houses were, they were constructed a little better than these sawmill shanties, because they were naturally expecting to be there longer. But the first houses that were built, they were more Jenny Lind construction.
PN: How many rooms, were the same number of rooms in both the Jenny Lind houses and the new houses?
HG: Well, most of them.
PN: How many rooms did they have?
HG: They'd usually have four; most of them was four—room houses. Now they'd have, for bosses and mine foremen, superintendent, maybe the store manager, people like that, you know, they'd have a little better house — maybe another room or two; some of them even had a bath in them.
PN: What were the rooms used, if you had four rooms, what would you use each of the rooms for?
HG: Well, usually you'd have your kitchen; and in most cases, you, that was your dining area too. Most families, why, they'd use the other rooms for living room and bedrooms. And, of course, in most cases, there'd be a bed in the living room, you know in a house that size, and big families, why, and the bedrooms, I know we used to, we 'd have two beds in the bed— room. And in our living room, we, you had these old, what they called a davenport that opened up into a bed, made a whole lot on the order of these hide—a—beds, you know. They called them then a davenport. And you could open that thing up and make a bed, you know, if necessary. And in our case, it was usually necessary, about every night.
[ laughs ]
PN: What other types of furniture did you have in the living room?
HG: Well that davenport, of course, it, in the daytime it was a couch, you know; and it made out into a bed of a night. And then you had whatever chairs you needed. And we used to have one of these old wind—up phonographs; and some of the others had some, you know, had an old phonograph. And that was usually It.
PN: Did you have a radio?
HG: Oh no, no, no. There was very few radios, and I knew some people
that had radios; usually the superintendent, maybe he'd have one. But you couldn't hear anything hardly on it, more static than anything else. You could tell that somebody was talking, you know, but you couldn't make out what he was saying. But it was quite a curiosity. And then a few years later, the superintendent had his radio, well they fixed up a, down here at Terry, they fixed up a building there that had been used for a feed storage, and cleaned that thing out, and put tables and chairs in there, and used it just as a sort of a gathering place, you know. We'd meet together there, and we 'd play checkers, and listen to the radio —— he had his radio in there. And some listened to the radio, some played checkers, some played set—back —— and just have a sort of a getting together.
PN: What was set—back?
HG: That was played with cards. And, just sort of games, you know. And we had first—aid classes in it. And a couple of nights a week, we 'd have arithmetic classes. We had a fellow came down there, principal of the school, a fellow by the name of Cardin; and he was co—editor, or whatever you call it; he helped to compile a history of West Virginia, he and another fellow. H. G. Cardin, maybe you 've seen some of his work. But at any rate, he wasn't a fellow that whenever he finished with the kids at school, he didn't care about just setting down, not doing anything.
He decided to teach the men a little bit. Some of them couldn't read their statements, you know; before that winter was over, he had them working fractions. And some of them, the ones that was more advanced, he f d have them abstracting square roots, you know, and like that. He was really an educator; that was his work, and he worked at it. I know some fellows there that couldn't sign their statement. But before that fellow left there, they wrote a pretty good hand . So we had a pretty good thing going there for a while.
PN: Where did people get most of their furniture? From the company store?
HG: From the company store, yea. And that wasn't bad. They handled a good brand of furniture, you know. And you could buy it, and pay so much a half [a month] on it, you know. And they didn't have what, a finance charge, you know. You bought the furniture, and they'd take out so much a half until the price of it was paid; there was no finance charge. And some of them, when they could buy like that, they kept theirselves tied up that way to where they didn't draw any money. They just lived out of the company store. They called it being "scrip—bound, just from one half to the next.
PN: What did most people in Terry at that time do for recreation?
HG: Well, most of them liked to fish. And on Sundays, we'd go down to the river and boat ride. And they had a place down there where you could fix a place to play croquet. And we played croquet. A lot of the men, they'd get down on the river bank on a flat rock and play poker. There wasn't much, now at Royal, had a movie theater, and we used to, on the weekend on, usually on Saturday night, they'd have a movie, you know. And you'd walk from Terry to Royal, about three miles one way. We 'd walk to the movie. We had a little excitement down there one time. There was a
fellow, kind of an old fellow, came in there; started staying with a family that lived down, there was a house down near the river. And there was a family by the name of Branstetters lived there in that house. And they worked there in the mines. And this fellow, he come there and started
boarding with Branstetters; the house was down to itself, you know, away from the camp. And this old fellow, he 'd go every day, every day, you 'd see him going with a basket on his arm. He'd go up the railroad track to McCreery and back. And he 'd have a piece of paper in that basket, some— thing underneath the paper, and then he 'd have a few items on top of the paper. And he'd always have some candy to give kids, you know, candy or chewing gum, something like that. And that went on for quite a while. Mrs. Branstetter, she was kind of curious about why he, he always when he was there he stayed to hisself in his room, you know. Then he decided he wanted to take the oldest boy with him to Charleston. He said he had to go to Charleston on business. So he took the boy to Charleston with him.
They let him go; they'd got to where they thought right smart of the old man; he was a pretty nice old fellow. So they let him take the boy with him. And they was gone about a week, maybe longer, several days. They come back home, and Mrs. Branstetter said, Philip told her. I forget now the man's name; he had a name for him. He said all he did in Charleston is spend his money. He said they would walk around on the street, and every time they passed a hot—dog stand or a place like that, he'd give him a half dollar, and he'd get a hot dog for a nickel and bring him back the change. And he'd give Philip a half dollar, and he'd go buy him a pack of chewing gum, or a hot dog, or something, and bring him back the change. And he said that's all they did. Well then counterfeit half of dollars started floating around. And first thing you know, here the police come in, went down to Branstetters and picked the old fellow up. Come to find out, he was wanted in I forget how many states; he was wanted in several states, you know. And he'd been in prison several times and escaped. And the last time that he broke out, they'd shot him in the arm. The bullet went in his elbow there, and that arm, and come out his wrist; and that arm stayed in that shape, and it was just right to hold a basket on. And that's the way you'd hold a basket, you know, on your arm. And everywhere he went, he carried that basket on that arm. And nobody paid any attention to it being crippled; they didn't know it was, you know. And come to find out, that old bugger, that's the reason he stayed in his room, you know. He was in there and he had him a little oil burner in there, and he was, and he'd go up there on the railroad, and he 'd gather up lead, you know, anything that he could find that he could melt. But he could find quite a bit of lead, where the train crews had put down these torpedos, you know, on the rail. And he’d gather that up, and old spoons, and things and he could mix that together, you know, and melt that, and mix it together, and mold them half dollars. And they picked him up, and they took him down to the coal company office. And he told them, he said, ' 'If you hadn't a got me today," he said, "tomorrow I was ready to start putting out bills. Everything was ready. He'd done his engraving; and he really did a good job too. And he showed him how he could do it. He knew he wasn't going to get out any more. He was getting kind of old, and I guess he figured he'd never engineer another escape, and too many states wanted him. He was gone for the rest of his life, you know. And he showed them how he worked it to get these little colored threads in there, you know.
He started rolling the corner of a one—dollar bill, and he started it splitting. And they let him peel it back about half—way, you know, to make two bills out, put another piece to it, you know. The paper that they use, and of course, he'd have that real bill, you know, with the threads in it, and it was a little harder to detect. And the man said, "Well, that would only be half—counterfeit at that, wouldn't it?"
PN: Let me ask you another question. What religion did most people have in Terry? Did they go to church there?
HG: Yea, they had a little church that had been a one—room school. And then they built a bigger school, and they used that old school building for a church.
PN: Was it a Baptist church, or what was it?
HG: Well, it was just first one, then another; it was more a community than anything else. That's what they called It, Terry Community Church. And they've got a new church down there now, and they still call it the Terry Community Church. But they had different denominations, people down there of several different faiths. They had some Baptists, and some Christian belief. My grandfather used to come down there and preach once a month. He was from up Elk Knob; he built that Elk Knob Baptist Church, and pastored it until he died. He lived on a farm right there, right there near the Elk Knob Church. But he would come down there, and he used to preach different places, ride his horse, you know, and go places to preach. And he used to come down there and preach. Different preachers would come in and preach. There was two or three that come pretty regular, once a month. There used to be Mr. Paul Smith from out, well, he was originally from Grandview, but he lived up here in Beckley; and he would come down and preach once a month. And once in a while, one of them would hold a series of meetings, you know.
PN: Were there a lot of people who were immigrants from Europe inTerry?
HG: Yes, there were some. We had some Polish people, and some different, I guess, and I know, some from Russia. Terry was at that time, Terry was a pretty good place to work. But it got so, after it begin to get pretty well worked out, it got to where it wasn't too good, you know, kind of a hard place to make money. But at one time, it was a pretty good place to make money.
PN: Were there many Black miners there?
HG: Yes they had some.
PN: About how many, would you say?
HG: Well, I don't know. They had enough there till they had their own school and their own church.
PN: In Terry?
HG: Yea, you see it actually was a pretty camp at one time.
PN: Where did most of the Black miners come from?
HG: I don't know.
PN: Did the company have any transportation agents that went and got
people from Europe?
HG: Well, no. Now they, they used to, some of these bigger companies you know, like over here at Raleigh, and at places like that, over at Summer lee, I’ve heard of some of the bigger companies that would bringin a trainload of miners, you know, to break a strike. Now that's what happened over at Raleigh. They brought in, they called it a "transportation," because they was on strike. And that's when they mounted that machine gun up there, you know, to protect them. And they brought them, seemed to me like they said they brought them from Alabama, the most of them. But they brought a bunch in over there at Summer lee one time, because that mine was so hot, it had blowed up a few times . And it was one of the gassiest mines in the area. And it b lowed up there once and killed everybody in it. And it was called Perral at that time. Well, they couldn't get anybody to work there; people was afraid of it, so they changed the name to Summerlee. And they brought in this transportation of people from out of state, I don't know where they got them from. But anyway, they didn't know where Summerlee was; they told them they was taking them to Summerlee.
PN: Where is that, in Fayette County?
HG: Yes, it's over, you know where Summerlee Road is over there out of east Oak Hill. Well, that takes you down into Summerlee, and I guess it's still working. But they brought that trainload of miners in there, and there was one foreigner fellow on there that had worked there before; and they didn't know that, that they had him. And when he looked out the window, and saw where he was at, he said, "This is no Summerlee. He said, "This is old Perral, blow up and kill everybody." And wouldn't any— body get off the train.
PN: What year was that?
HG: I don't know. I just heard them telling about it, you know; they said they brought that trainload in there, then couldn't get them off the train, because that fellow recognized the place.
PN: That was Lochgelly too. Didn't they change it's name? What was it's name?
HG: I don't remember now. Let's see, I 'm trying. Let's see, there was Lochgelly, and Oakwood. Oh, I can't think now, but I used to hear my dad talk about them places, now, he, he used to, when he was, just a boy and started to work over in there. That's where he started in the mines, was over in that area. And his mother's people lived over there; they were, Smithson was their name. And they lived in that area, and he went over there and stayed with his grandmother, you know, and worked there. His uncles worked in the mines there, and he worked in there with them.
PN: We were talking about Terry before. Did the Black and white people in Terry get along pretty well together?
HG: Oh, yes, yes, there was no problems. I remember a good friend ofmine was a colored boy, a Stevens boy. His dad was a preacher, he was pastor of a church there. I remember him, he was a big man, tall and broad shouldered. I used to think he was the best built man I 'd ever seen; he'd just fill a door when he stepped up in it, you know, he was that kind of a fellow.
PN: He was the preacher?
HG: Yea
PN: Did he work in the mines too?
HG: Oh yes, yes, he worked in the mines.
PN: Did most of the preachers work in the mines?
HG: Oh yea. They wasn't paid a salary, you know. They preached, and
worked in the mines.
PN: How about your dad when you said, was it your grandfather you said who…
HG: Yea, my grandfather was the preacher.
HG: Was he a full—time preacher?
HG: No, he was a farmer. And the only pay he got out of preaching, somebody would take up a free—will offering for him, you know. He wouldn't, oh, he'd have died before he'd ask for any pay. He just didn't do it. But they would usually take up, he would usually just about get his expenses out of it, you know; that's about what you get, a little church like that. People didn't have much money anyway. You'd see a few of them put in a bill, you know, but most of it was change.
PN: We have about two minutes left on the tape. Is there any final thing you think is important to get in there?
HG: Well.
PN: What do you think is the main thing that the union did for the men, and the women, and the whole families, and everybody?
HG: Well, the important thing, they give them the right to bargain, you know. Before, you didn't have that right, and men had to do just whatever the company said, or leave. I know I used to brake on the gathering motor. And if you couldn’t outrun that motor, you didn't have a job. They didn't slow down for anything. You'd ride off, and throw a switch, and open a before that trip got there, because the front end of that trip, and jump trap door; and you better get it open he wasn't slowing down for anything.
And I 've made couplings where they'd, I’d be standing between the cars, and they'd hit so hard, the cars would rear up, you know. They don't allow that anymore; see, they put a stop to all that. They got lots of men killed, hands cut off, you know. And I 've had coal loaders working in a place where the water would be up to his knees, and he couldn't hardly get a shovelful of coal. You'd get your shovel under the coal, and by the time you raise It up to the top of the water, the most of it's washed off. But, the only way he'd get rid of that water would be to bail it out with his shovel as he loaded coal. No pay for it. He'd just do the best he could to get rid of It. When they could have set a hand pump in there, and pumped it out; but they wouldn't do it. Now, they'd tell a man, "Now, either you work it or take your tools. There's another man outside waiting for a job. He'll work it. And usually that was true, you know.
PN: But the union put a stop to that?
HG: The union put a stop to that. They had to pay for work that you did.
PN: Mrs. Gwinn, maybe we could start off by asking you what date you were born on and what town you were born in.
MG: I was born May the 30th in 1904, Beury, West Virginia.
PN: Were you born at home, in your mother's…
MG: Oh yes, oh yes, mm. And I lived there till I was about six years old.
PN: And where did you move then?
MG: We moved to Pennbrooke, Pennbrooke, West Virginia, which is about four
miles below Beury.
PN: Up towards Sewell.
MG: Yes, we were just a mile from Sewell, up the river. And there's Fire Creek between Beury and Pennbrooke.
PN: How long did you live at Pennbrooke?
MG: I would say about 12 years,
PN: You lived in Pennbrooke till you were about 18 years old?
MG: Yea, no I wasn't. See I went to Wheeling and went to school as I just stated to you. And when I came back from Wheeling, I, my parents had moved from Pennbrooke to Thayer. And I was about 15 years old when 1 came back, probably pretty close to 16. And then I went in training at the age of 17.
PN: And where was that?
MG: McKendree Hospital. That's called McKendree Hospital No. 2.
PN: Yea, that's cause it was the second of the three miners' hospitals that the state…
MG: Yes. The first one's in Welch. that's No. 1. McKendree was No. 2, and Fairmont's No. 3.
PN: Were those the hospitals that were set up under that state legislative act of 1899?
MG: I don't know; I can't answer that. [They were. ] I just know that Captain Beury built the McKendree Hospital, had it built for his miners, Captain Joe Beury. And when it went into the state's hands I just do not know. [According to newspaper accounts, the hospital was built with state funds, and Beury donated the land on which it was built.]
PN: I think it operated as a hospital from 1899—1900, when it was first built, until 1941. And then it became the elderly people's home.
MG: Yes, the colored elderly home there. And that's when it started going down rapidly — right in there. And, but it was a great hospital. And the superintendent of this hospital, when I went in, was Dr. H. L. Goodman.
PN: Yea, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your experiences there. You said that you began your training there when you were 17 years old.
MC: Seventeen, I went in, I was, I was 17 in May, May 30th, and I went in the first day of June.
PN: In 1921?
MG: Uh, yes. My mother didn't want me to go in, cause I was too young. But I wanted to go in. And we went up, and Mama thought that Dr. Good would say no, because "she's too young”. But he said yes. Now he said, "Remember Mabel, you can't take State Board till you're 21. You'll go a year there without your State Board." And I remember that. But I just wanted to be a nurse. And so I just got in it.
PN: Did you complete your nurses training right there at McKendree?
MG: No, not at McKendree. I married Wallace two years later in 1924, 19—, yea, 24, no 23, 1923, June the 13th in 23. And I stayed on for six months and then I just quit, which was really silly of me. It really was. Three years later, I decided I wanted to finish and my husband didn't want me to leave home to finish. But I wanted to go so bad, but I went to back to Mckendree, and Mrs. Cook and Dr. Godby [Goodman] Dr. Godby was Superintendent then. Mrs. Cook was Supervisor of nurses. And she got my record out, you know, looked it over, and decided that, “Well, sure, come back here and finish." And I comes back over here in Oak Hill. And I'd been living in Oak Hill, really and that place looked a little crummy to me then, you know. And Montgomery was a little larger place. So I said, “Well, I believe I'll try Montgomery Coal Valley Hospital.” So I went down, and Dr. a, I first saw the instructor of nurses. And so I talked to her. She said, "Well I want you to interview, I want Dr. Laird to interview you." He owned the hospital. So I said, "OK," and she made the appointment for me to see him at one o'clock that day. So I went up to, so I went to his office. And he said, “Well, Mrs. Gwinn,” he said, “You know, we just don't take nurses, you know, it's against the rules to take nurses that's married and living with their husbands." Well I said, "I’m living with mine, and I'm going to continue on. But I just wanted to finish my training." And he looked at me just a little bit, and he said, “Well when could you be here?" That was one Monday. I said, “I can be here next Monday.” And he said, “All right, you're in." And I went down, and of course I had to take a year and a half training.
PN: A year and a half?
MG: But I finished, I finished right there.
PN: There at Montgomery?
MG: At Montgomery. I finished in April the 20th, in 1929.
PN: And where did you work as a nurse after you completed your training?
MG: Here at Oak Hill Hospital. I worked at the Oak Hill Hospital for 11 years. And the Superintendent up here was Dr. Wood, when I went up here. And then he died, and Dr. Prillaman took, they sent him from Beckley. See, Beckley Hospital, Dr. Tisch and Dr. McCulloch owned both of these hospitals — the Beckley Hospital and Oak Hill Hospital. And so they sent Dr. Prillaman over in charge. So it was about 1933, and Dr. Prillaman was Superintendent of that hospital until 1939. And Dr. Price had this Scarbro practice down here. And he died, and Dr. Prillaman decided he was going to take that over, and asked me if I 'd go down [and] work for him. So I did. And all of my work, except ten years of it, has been right here in Oak Hill. Ten years of it, they transferred my husband from the Minden Mine he was Superintendent of the Minden Mine, which was the New River Pocahontas Consolidated Coal Company — and it was working out. And they sent him to Cap les, which is two miles from Welch. And he was Superintendent of that mine up until he retired. Now I worked at Stevens Clinic Hospital
PN: Where is this?
MG: Stevens Clinic at Welch, for ten years. The ten, the whole ten years I was there, I worked there. I was in charge of the orthopedic department and the emergency room all this time. And then my husband retires in ten years, and we moves back here. We owned this house, and we just moved back to it. My mother and sister lived in it. Incidentally, I do have well, one of them's passed away but I have another one that's [an] R.N. There's three of us R.N.'s. There was six of us in this family — three R.N.'s, two teachers, and one housewife.
PN: Let me go back and ask you some questions about the twenties. First, I wanted to ask you a couple of things about your, your husband. You said that he began as a coal miner?
MG: Began, yes.
PN: Could you describe where, where he began and a little bit about his career?
MG: Yes, he started, I have to think here, he started at Minden.
PN: He did?
MG: Mm. I was having to think whether he started at Rock Lick first or at Minden. But he. started at Minden. And he, he, he dug coal; and then he was a motor runner in the mines. And they had him in, some of the time they had him in the, what they called the "house department crew.” And after so long of running the motor, and laying track, and all these things, they had these classes these mine foreman classes around. So he went to Lochge11y and took this class. I said, "Wallace, why don't you go over there and take this class? They're offering it over there, and you like mining, you won't come out of it. And he say, "You know, I believe I'll do that." And he did, he went over there and took classes. And I think he went about a year and took classes. And then he finally thought that he was ready for the examination. And he went to Charleston, took his examination, and he came back the first day. And he said, "You know, Mabel, I flunked. And I said, “Oh you didn't." And he said, "I did. I'm not going back tomorrow. See they had two days of it. And I said, "Well Wallace, I'd go back. And then you'd know the subjects you're weak in. And you can get on em." I said, “Oh, go on back, and take the second day of it." So he did, and one evening, you know he went to the post office religiously when he came in from work to see, you know, about his grades. And one evening, I was cooking and my, you know, the kitchen was in back of the house, and I heard all this hollering as he came up the steps: “Mabel! Mabel!” And I ran to the door right quick, and he had it in his hand, you know. “I passed! I passed! I passed!" And that was in 19—, that was about 1936 I would say.
PN: Did he become a mine superintendent right after that?
MG: No. He was section foreman?
PN: Where? At Minden.
MG: At Minden. And then, no, no, not at Minden either. I’m wrong on that. He took it, he took the examination, he was working at Rock Lick when he took the examination, very definitely was. And, and, and Rock Lick was sort of working out and so, anyway they offered him a job at Minden as section foreman. And right in there is where he began building up. And he was mine foreman for a few years, and then they threw him in as superintendent. And he was superintendent up until he retired in 1966.
PN: Where was he born, did you say? In Beury?
MG: Him?
PN: Yes.
MG: No, no. He was born at McKendree. He was born and reared at McKendree, right across from the hospital.
PN: What did his parents do?
MG: His father had a sawmill on this farm of his.
PN: Across the river from the hospital?
MG: That's right, mm. And they grew vegetables and sold them, and just those things. And then Mr. Gwinn had a store, a little store down by the depot at McKendree. He had a little bit of everything in it.
PN: How did he cross the river? In a ferry?
MG: No, he had, they had boats that they. They had two landings; there was one right across, right down the river bank from the store, which they called the Lower Landing. Now the Upper Landing, Mr. Nyden, was on up above the hospital there. They had two landings there. And I don't guess that they ever feared drowning or anything. I’ve seen them come across that river when the shoals were, the river was up and those shoals were beating. And you know, they just weren't afraid of it. And you know the very sight of water frightens me to death, and I didn't understand how in the world that they could, that, you know, that they would do that. Those girls were just like men on that boat.
PN: Let me go back and just ask you about the way McKendree looked, a little bit. And then I want to ask you about the farm some more. Back in 1921 and ' 22, when you were training to be a nurse there, you said there was a depot in town?
MG: Sure.
PN: And a store?
MG: Yes, a store. And in 1921, they built a rooming house. Now the store, I don't know what that was built. It was built when I went there.
PN: It was?
MG: Yes, but they built the store in 1921.
PN: The rooming house?
MG: Yea, I mean the rooming house, yes. The store was built when I got, when I went in training. I don't know when it was built, but the rooming house was built in 1921.
PN: Who was the rooming house for?
MG: It was just to keep the, really the people that would have real sick people at the hospital, would be afraid to leave them; they stayed there at this rooming house. They also served meals in this rooming house also.
PN: So there was a hospital there, and a rooming house. And was there a nurses' quarters?
MG: No, our nursing home, [correcting herself] nurses' home was right at the hospital. Now our hos—, the hospital is on up the road, what did I a quarter of a mile? Probably, probably a quarter of a mile from the, no, no, towards Prince. Now it's not up on the road you're thinking about, the road that goes through, from Thayer and all those places. It's, it's the, it's, it's the road I'm talking about that leads, led to the hospital. Uh huh. And I'd say about a quarter of a mile up there; I really would, from the depot.
PN: Did you say that there was a saloon also?
MG: No, that was at Beury.
PN: That was at Beury.
MG: Mm. No saloon up there, no. But this rooming house and the, and Mr. Gwinn's store, and they had a little depot there. And then they had a, a, What they called a rooming house, a large rooming house between the hospital and the depot on the road to the hospital. Now a family by the name of Wi throws lived in there when I was in training. And, of course, they didn't keep roomers. There was a big family of them, and they occupied the whole building. And I would say that was about the only thing around there really - just what I 've mentioned. I can't remember of anything else.
PN: You said, though, that your husband grew up in McKendree?
MG: Oh yes, he was born and reared there.
PN: In what, in a private house there, or what?
MG: Oh yes. You see their homes, Mrs. Gwinn had all of her children right at home.
PN: You're talking about McKendree or…?
MG: McKendree.
PN: Or across the river from McKendree?
MG: That's right, across the river from McKendree.
PN: What, and that was part of McKendree too?
MG: Oh yea, that's all Mckendree all through there.
PN: Both sides of the river?
MG: Both sides of the river, yes sir, uh huh. That's all McKendree.
PN: But on the side of the river where the hospital was located, there were no private homes there, is that correct?
MG: No, that, the only one is one I mentioned. They called it a rooming house, but they, it was not a rooming house when I went in training there and left. It was, and I don't know who owned that house. But there was a family by the name of Withrows living in it. That's halfway between your depot and the hospital. And that was actually all; the only, the Gwinns, and really the rooming house on the railroad, and the store, and depot really are the only buildings I can remember up there.
PN: Could you talk about across the river and the Gwinn famr across the river?
MG: Yes.
PN: How many buildings were located on the farm?
MG: On the farm? There was a little, a little house on the farm that Mrs. Gwinn's parents had, Mr. and Mrs. Spade. And I believe that was all the buildings on that place.
PN: There were just two?
MG: Just the two — that big home and this little building.
PN: When was that big home built? Do you know that?
MG: No, I don't, because it was built when I got there. But I 'm sure that it hadn't been built too long really.
PN: You were saying before that originally the Gwinns came there in the early part of the 1800s?
MG: Yes. Now Mr. , now there's another set of Gwinns that lived a mile up, which was a brother to Wallace's father — Lewis Gwinn - up towards Terry . Now I really don't know where they got their mail, whether they got their mail at Terry or not. But I believe they did, because the post office was on the inside of the McKendree Hospital, and I never once saw them there for mail. So I imagine that would be in the Terry section. Have you been up in Terry?
PN: Yes.
MG: Well, now the Gwinns, Lewis Gwinn, Mr. Gwinn's brother, lived there.
PN: What was Wallace's father's name?
MG: Loomis.
PN: And that was your husband's father?
MG: Yes, uh huh.
PN: And he lived on What was called the upper Gwinn farm?
MG: No, he lived on the lower Gwinn farm. Lewis Gwinn lived on the upper Gwinn farm. PN: Towards Terry?
MG: Yes, that's right, Lewis.
PN: And you said that, that the Gwinns had a store at McKendree?
MG: Yes.
PN: Was that L
MG: That's Loomis Gwinn.
PN: How did he get, or what did he sell, first of all?
MG: Well, I tell you, it was things like groceries. He couldn't keep fresh meat in it. And cosmetics, and little things like gloves — you know, working gloves and just the general things that you would see in a, whatwe used to call a "jot— em—down store”.
PN: A what store?
MG: Jot—' em, jot—'em—down, jot—‘em—down store.
PN: Why was it called that?
MG: I don't know. It's just because they have a "duke's mixture" of things; there's a variety of things. But anything that you could mention, Mr. Gwinn had in that little store, I tell you.
PN: Did he sell some of the vegetables that were raised on the Gwinn farm?
MG: Oh certainly, yes. They really made a good living on the, on that farm. They peddled groceries, I mean vegetables, really by boat from McKendree to Thayer.
PN: You mean going up and down the river?
MG: Yes.
PN: People lived along the river then?
MG: Yes, and in Thayer too.
PN: How did he have time to raise the vegetables, run the store, and peddle the groceries?
MG: Well he didn't do all this. See what they did was, Mr. Gwinn kept the store, and those boys did that. You see the boys were the oldest in this family. The girls, there was a string of boys about seven, they lost one — and then there was five girls. And all the boys were old, older than the girls.
PN: And the boys worked the farm too?
MG: Oh yes. They sure did. They all worked together, and the girls did and Mrs. Gwinn did. They just all worked together over there.
PN: Who would patronize the store that he had?
MG: Well, I’ll tell you. The hospital did, and then they had people living way up there pretty close to Terry that used to come down and, and buy things. And people that, that came to see patients. You know, the transportation was real good. For instance, in the mornings we had this train called Thirty—Five; it was what we called a local. And it ran about 7:00 in the morning; well it was a down train. And then, then we had Number Thirteen that was a local. That ran about 1:30. And then in the evenings, we had a train, it was Number Seven. That came up the river, and people came up to the hospital to see their people. And they'd stop in that store and buy things. And they sold sardines and Vienna sausage and all of these things, you know, things that weren't perishable.
PN: You say a train that came up the river, where would that come to McKendree from?
MG: You know I don't know where these trains are made up now. I can't answer that.
PN: Would that come from the direction of Huntington and Charleston?
MG: Yes, it came, when we say up, we mean from the direction of Charleston, Huntington, and all those places. And when we say "down, that means from Hinton way, down that way, uh huh. Now then of course they had fast—flying trains too, you know, that had certain stops — Number Three was one of them and Number Two in the mornings and all.
PN: Let me just ask you a couple of more questions about the farm and then more about the hospital.
MG: OK.
PN: The farm was originally settled in the early part of the 19th century, and then it was burned during the Civil War?
MG: That's right, the, the place where Lewis Gwinn lived is the place that burned.
PN: And that was because he was sympathetic to the Union?
MG: Yes.
PN: And it was Captain W.D. Thurmond…?
MG: Captain Thurmond, Old Cap—, they called him “Old Captain Thurmond", a bushwhacker, you know, and burned. Yea he was, they called 'em bushwhackers during the Civil War. And you see, the Gwinns got a holt of this going to happen. Now see this fellow Gwinn, I mean this fellow Thurmond and them that helped and did these things certainly didn t mean for the Gwinns to get it. But they got it, and they got those things to — get her, and got, just went, left in a wagon, a big wagon of some kind drawn by horses. And filled it up with what they needed. And they got on top of McKendree Mountain, and just looks back, and they just in time, because the house was in flames. And then they, when they came back from, they stayed in Illinois [actually meant Indiana], they got to Illinois, then they came back. And as you see in this write—up, they lived under a cliff until they could build, re-build again.
PN: So they came back in the late 1860s and rebuilt the homes?
MG: That's right.
PN: That was towards Terry?
MG: That's right, mm.
PN: That was the upper Gwinn farm?
MG: Yes.
PN: What was the motivation of this guy Captain Thurmond? Was he in favor of slavery, or what…
MG: Well, really I can't answer that. I really don't know. And I have never got an answer to that. It just seems to me like in thinking of it, that he just wanted to steal, get things for nothing really.
PN: So before he would burn a house down, he would come in and take, steal stuff?
MG: I imagine that's the way he did it. I really don't know at all. But they just did it. They were just, and they of course, they were against the Union too. So I just really don't know they went at it, or anything; but from what I could gather in the people talking was that they, that he, that he would take, they would take all they wanted and then set fire.
PN: He was kind of a bandit, or a thug type?
MG: Yea, that's right, sort of like these sea pirates and all of that, you know.
PN: When the family moved back and reestablished the home there, who was, what was the name of the man at the time? Was that Lewis Gwinn.
MG: No, it was Laban Gwinn.
PN: And that was Lewis Gwinn's father?
MG: Yes, mm.
PN: And Laban Gwinn was also the father of Loomis Gwinn, who was your husband's father?
MG: Yes, uh huh, yea, that's right, uh huh. It was really, I guess, heard 'em talk and talk about that.
PN: When did they establish the lower farm? This was later?
MG: You know that I don't know, Mr. Nyden. I think, I think that probably they, that they didn't, they, they were there for a long, long time at McKendree, Loomis and them were established there. But now I don't believe that they, I just don't know, I believe I won't try to even answer that, because I really haven't heard that part of the story.
PN: Let me ask you a little bit more about the hospital. Could you describe, say when you were in nurses' training, you know, at McKendree, could you describe a little bit about the responsibilities of a nurse at that time?
MG: Well, you know we worked ten hours in the day. And of course if we did just a little something, and we swore that the supervisor was looking to find something to take our hours away from us, why we 'd have to work the whole 12 hours, you know. And of course every night nurse had to work 12 hours. I mean that, that was, that was it. You didn't get any time off when you worked at night. And we had to, well do everything. Now we had an orderly that did the floor—scrubbing and things. But very often we 've had to scrub the bathroom, and we had to scrub beds. And I never had to clean any windows; but now there's been nurses that has had to, but I didn't have to. And I don't know of any nurse at McKendree did it. But we had to keep the sills and the whitework clean. Now and the beds had to be spotless.
PN: And the nurses were responsible for all…
MG: All this, that's right. And, but now, oh, down at Montgomery — I was talking to my classmate Tuesday night, they had a big party for us down there, and she said that she had to scrub, that she had had to scrub, or clean windows down there. But I never cleaned, I never did clean a window, really I didn't. I've scrubbed bathrooms; and of course our bedpans had to be soaked in the bathtub for hours, and then we had to clean those all up, and clean the utility rooms up, you know, and keep those all clean. The doctor was very strict about the cleanliness of the hospital, very strict. Fact of the matter, Dr. Goodman, I think was one of the finest men to train nurses that I ever ran into. He really was. He knew how to handle us, and he knew how to make us work and get it. He wasn't hard on us, but we knew he expected it, and we did it. And if we didn't, we were called up on the floor about it.
PN: Where did you live when you were in training there at McKendree?
MG: We lived at Thayer.
PN: You lived at Thayer?
MG: Thayer.
PN: Where your parents were living?
MG: That's right.
PN: How did you get back and forth every day?
MG: The train. I could go down on Thirteen, which ran about 1:30. And then Number Seven came up, back about 7:00 or 7:30 that evening. And I'd come back on that. If I had a full day, I could go down on Thirty—Five and spend the whole day see, and come back up on Number Seven. Transportation was real good.
PN: And what was your father doing at that time?
MG: My father was a checkweighman at the Thayer Coal Company; that was
Ephraim Creek and, Ephraim Creek Coal and Coke Company.
PN: Was checkweighman a company…
MC: A checkweighman.
PN: Or a union job at that time?
MG: No, I tell you, they had a checkweighman for the union and a check— weighman for the company. Now isn't this funny? But they did have it. And my father was checkweighman for the company. Yea, they had two checkweighmens.
PN: So your father had worked in the mines in Beury before that?
MG: Oh yes, but now, that's right, he did contract work them. I mean he'd go in and tell the company what he would take the coal out for.
PN: In a certain section of the mine?
MG: That's right. They called it rooms. And the company would say, "OK, well go ahead, Mr. Leet, and take…" and that's, that's what he did.
MG: Oh yes, oh sure, uh huh.
PN: Is that what they called "leasing"? Or that would be different than.
MG: I don't know really what you'd call that, Mr. Nyden, I really don't.
PN: That was contract work, though, you said?
MG: Yes, uh huh. So I guess it would be, I don' t know, contract work. I don't know whether you'd state it as such or what, really. You know they did things so differently in the mines in that day and time.
PN: Would there be a number of people like your father that the company would make these arrangements with?
MG: I beg your pardon.
PN: For any particular mine, would there be a number of people like your father that the company would make these arrangements with to work a certain room or section?
MG: They would, I mean they would ask my father, you know, "What will you get this coal out for, Mr. Leet?" And my father would look it over carefully, and he'd tell them.
PN: Yea, was that for the whole mine?
MG: No, I mean no, it wouldn't include the whole mine at all, because they had men working in other sections of the mine. But it would be, it would be just the, the certain rooms that they wanted coal out of. And they'd, they'd ask my father that. No that wouldn't take in a whole mine, no.
PN: So they may have other men like your father?
MG: I don't know whether they did that or not. I really don't know. I just know my father did it. And I declare I can't remember about it.
PN: I was going to ask you a couple of more questions about McKendree too. When you were there, how many patients would usually be there, you know, on the average, every day?
MG: You mean how many came in?
PN: No, no, how many…
MG: How many did we have?
PN: Yea, yea, total number you had.
MG: OK, let me see here. I thought of that the other day, and it, let’s see 14, 20 — you mind putting the 14 and 20 down? — and, and about fif—, no about 20 again, and then three.
PN: So you said that you had beds or places for 64 people.
MG: Oh yes.
PN: And usually about.
MG: We averaged about 45 or 50, I would say, daily. And…
PN: How many new patients would tend to come in every day. you know, on the trains?
MG: I tell you, they came in pretty fast up there - night or day - they brought them in by train. And it's just a little bit hard for me to, to say, because some of 'em we could clear up and let 'em go as soon as we fixed em up. And others, we had to keep em. I would say, I would say possibly 20 or 25 a week.
PN: Which would be coming in and out?
MG: Mm.
PN: And some of them, you would treat right there.
MG: That's right.
PN: Who were most of the patients? Were they miners and railroad workers, or…
MG: Well, I tell you what, they were just a mixture of things. It was fights; we got a lot of fights in. And miners, we got a lot of miners in.
PN: That were hurt on the job?
MG: Oh yes. And, and then, of course, they did a lot, they did their share of surgery there too. And of course there weren't many cars then. And very rare we got a car wreck in. got in. This girl, she was hurt in this car in Hinton. badly injured. Her leg was know, "I don't know whether But I do remember one very bad car wreck that we about what? 18 years old, and she was, she was hurt in this car in Hinton. And they brought her in there and she was badly injured. Her leg was really torn up really bad. And Dr. Goodman said, you to try to save this leg or not. He had her under anesthetic, he said, "I just don't know what to do here. And he said, “Well, I believe I will try to save it." And do you know, he saved that leg? And she had a big cut on her head, was knocked out, was just really unconscious when we got her, and remained there, unconscious there for two or three days too.
PN: Did they bring her from Hinton…?
MG: Hinton, on the train, on the train. I beg your pardon?
PN: Did they bring her from McKendree, [correcting myself] from Hinton to McKendree because Mckendree had a good reputation?
MG: Probably so, probably so, because they had a hospital at Hinton. And I would say that that was the reason they brought her. I wouldn't, couldn’t say that positively, because I just know she came. I know that.
PN: How many doc tors did they have there at McKendree?
MG: Two.
PN: And how many nurses, would you say?
MG: There was about eight or ten of us.
PN: Nurses? And that includes the people being trained?
MG: Yes, all of us were students. Now the, the, we only had one R.N., and that would be the supervisor.
PN: Right, and the eight or ten people were students?
MG: Yes, we were students.
PN: How many other people did they have, like orderlies?
MG: Well, they had one day orderly and one night orderly, which I guess we were fortunate in that day and time, cause they just didn't have all these things, you know. And they had, let me see, how many cooks John,
Lucy, Ada, and then another one. They had f our that worked in the kitchen.
PN: Were the cooks Black, at that time? Or were they white?
MG: Mm, every one of them were Black.
PN: Yea, and the orderlies too?
MNG: One orderly was, the day orderly.
PN: Was Black, and the other one was white?
MG: Uh huh, and the night orderly was white. And the reason for this was that we had the white orderly, or we'd have had a colored orderly at night. But this man came in from up in Monroe County. Now he came in as a, I didn't see him. This was before I entered training. And he had this disease they never have found out where this disease came from. It's a terrible skin disease, and they said that you, they thought you got it from cattle. And you couldn't stay in sun; if you did, you'd break out again. So they, I mean, we lost all the others. Mr. Engel s is the only one that came through. And what they would do, Mr. Nyden, would be, we 'd have to change these people real often. And we kept the bathtub run, half—full of water. And we would beg 'em not to scratch, because when they scratched, it caused infections. And we'd just have it ready, so they could just jump in this tub of water and ease that itching somewhat. We had Epson salts in this water. And I think, I think that this is the reason probably Mr. Engels came. Because he, he, he, he just wouldn't scratch hisself after the doctors told him, that not to scratch and do what they told him that he would maybe come through it. Well he obeyed, but we couldn't even get a, we couldn't do a thing with him. The itch is just so horrible that they, you know, would just scratch and get all these infections. And really the infections, and I mean it was all over them, and they scaled. And I haven't, I haven't seen any since I left McKendree Hospital. Very definitely I remember a fellow by the name of Leech. They came in there, and he was just too, he was just too hard to handle on it. And he, but like I say Mr. Engels was the only one, and he was night orderly due to this.
PN: Did they have both white patients and Black patients?
MG: Oh yea, yea.
PN: And mostly coming In from the towns along the gorge, right?
MG: I beg your pardon?
PN: And most of the patients would come in from towns that were along the gorge?
MG: That's right. Well you know, we got patients from Hinton and different places that came there. And Dr. Goodwin had a good reputation there, and they'd come from, once in a while get one in from Alderson, and different sections. But mostly it was around in close, we got most of our patients.
PN: So after you graduated from Montgomery in 1929, you 've been a nurse pretty much continuously since that time?
MG: I haven't stopped; I haven't stopped.
PN: That's quite a few years.
MG: And I, and do you know what? I'm not saying this boastingly, and I don't want you to take it as such. But do you know I have never asked for a job? I have never asked for a job. When I moved to Welch, I decided that, not a soul over there knew me, but I decided I wasn't going to work for a while. I was going to take that summer off. And I moved over there the first of June, and so help me, the supervisor and said, "I hear you 're an R. N." I say, "Yes I need you. And she said, “Will you come over for said, "Well, I'll talk to my husband this evening work.” Cause Wallace didn't want me to work that at Stevens Clinic called am." And she said, “We interview?" And I when he when he comes in from summer either. So anyway, you see, we had two adopted children. And they were, the boy was in graded school yet, but Mary was in high school. She's started the first year of high school. So I thought I'd just take a summer off with them. And she called me, and I talked to Wallace. And he said, "Well I don't want you going to work.” But he said, “I just feel like that you going to want to. So I'm going to let you decide that." So I did go over. And the following Monday, I went to work over there. So I haven't stopped; like I said, I've just continued right on through.
PN: What hospital are you working at now? At Oak Hill?
MG: I work for Dr. Joe N. Jarrett in his office now. You know where he is? He's right behind the hospital, in the, Dr. Vargo's in there, Dr. Shelton, and Dr. Janie all. It's sort of a medical arts building, the four in there.
PN: In Oak Hill?
MG: Right behind the hospital.
PN: There's about one more minute left on there. Is there anything you think's Important to add?
MG: Just stop it a minute. If you think of a question, you might pop it, and If I can answer it, I'll do so.
PN: No, I think we 've covered just about everything.
PN: To start off, Mr. Hannah, maybe I could ask you when you were born and what town you were born in?
CH: I was born in 1918 here at Hinton, West Virginia.
PN: And what did your father do for a living?
CH: My father was an engineer on the C. and O. Railway.
PN: When did your father first work for the C. and O.?
CH: I believe it was 1905 when he started.
PN: And when did you begin working yourself?
CH: 1938.
PN: And how many years have your worked, or did you work, for the railroad?
CH: A little over 32 years.
PN: And what were your responsibilities during that period of time?
CH: Well, I started out as a machinist apprentice. Then I worked four years as a machinist after finishing my time. Then I was promoted to what they called a pit foreman at the roundhouse, where we took care of the locomotives coming in for inspection, coaling of the engines, fueling the, putting water in the tank, putting sand in the sand boxes, cleaning the fires, and the washing of the running gear before the engines went into the house for repairs. After that, I was promoted to assistant roundhouse foreman, working inside the roundhouse where we maintained the engines, put ‘em out on the road for, when they were called, and kept all the records of the repairs being made. Then as progress would have it, we dieselized, and the diesel engines came into use, and the steam engines were done away with. This made the work at Hinton fall off until the men were laid off because of not having enough to do to keep 'em busy. And the diesels did not have to be coaled; they just put fuel in the tanks. And the sand boxes were filled. But this was about all that had to be done to these engines as far as servicing on the ready track, or to get ready to go on the ready track. The inspections were cut, until they didn't, didn't have to be inspected only once in a 24—hour period. They could come into Hinton after being inspected at Clifton Forge or Handley, and could continue on the road without further servicing. If the time had run out, and these engines would have to be inspected by machinist's inspector, and any repairs needed be made at Hinton before they were dispatched. When I came to work at Hinton, the roundhouse had 17 working stalls. And these stalls were full of engines the biggest part of the time, having repairs made. The engines , when we were running steam engines, had to have side—rod bearings, crown—bath, brasses put in driving boxes; guide, liners for the guides; and cross—heads built up and repaired with babbitt ["an alloy used for lining bearings; esp: one containing tin, copper, and antimony,” Webster's Dictionary] ; cylinders had to be inspected; cylinder rings had to be renewed at times. And at monthly inspections, there was an enormous amount of work on the steam engines which can be done in a whole lot less time on the diesels because of the way they're built. I've seen at times, when we would dispatch as many as 80 to 90 engines a day steam engines. We had pushers pushing the trains out of Hinton that would go to Alleghany; and then be turned, and the rest of the train go on; and the pusher engine would come back to Hinton to be used where needed, when it was inspected and repairs made to this engine if needed. That took quite a bit of power that they 're not using today because they use four diesel units, or maybe even five, at the head of the train, instead of using one engine at the head of the train and one engine as a pusher. This also cut down on engine crews, because now one engine crew operates all five units of a diesel train, where at that time, they had to have a crew on each engine in order to get the response that you needed when the throttle was open. This has made an awful change in the employment here at Hinton. When I went to work at Hinton, there was approximately 500 men working in the shop and the roundhouse offices. Now there are about 25, or maybe 30 at the most, in all the offices, and the machinists and electrician and pipefitter for all three shifts.
PN: Is there a total of 25 to 30 on all the three shifts?
CH: Yea, that's all three shifts.
PN: What were the years that this big transformation took place during?
CH: 1953, '54, and 55 were the big changing times. And we got down in 1954 to the same level of supervisors that they were using in 1921. And Andrew Hopkins, the night roundhouse foreman, told me, he said: “Charles, we 're safe now. They're down as far as they can go. They 're where they were in 1921. About two weeks later, they laid off five more supervisors. And we had to leave the state to find work.
PN: You did too?
CH: Yes, I went to Cincinnati and worked in a jet—engine plant for General Electric Company.
PN: When was that?
CH: That was in 1954 and '55; I worked there 21 months in the machine shop.
Then I bed back to a job as the night roundhouse foreman at Wallbridge.
PN: Was that in West Virginia?
CH: Ohio. And worked there two months and bid to Columbus, Ohio, and worked there a little over a year, and was laid off a second time from the railroad, at which time I went to North American Aviation and got a job working in the milling machine department.
PN: Was that back in Cincinnati?
CH: That was in Columbus. We built planes then at North American Aviation. And we got the, "engines that I had worked on in Cincinnati to go in the planes that we were building. So I've had quite a bit of airplane—machine experience. So then I bid to Russell, Kentucky in December of 1959. And lacked 15 days of working two years there as relief foreman before I got back to Hinton on a regular supervisor's job in 1961.
PN: Then you worked at Hinton until the seventies then?
CH: I worked at Hinton until 1973, when I had what I thought was a heart attack and was having trouble with my heart. And the company doctors told me I shouldn't work any longer. But I'm now trying to get back.
PN: If you went back, would you be the roundhouse supervisor or foreman again?
CH: Yes. I still hold my rights, seniority. I 'm the oldest supervisor on the roster.
PN: During the time of your employment with the C. and O., did you belong to any one of the railroad unions at any time?
CH: Yes, we belonged to the railroad super—, American Railway Supervisors Association.
PN: So that's, right now, you'd be a member of a union that has a collective bargaining contract with the company?
CH: Yea. Yes we formed a union several years ago about 1945, somewhere along in there I guess, just about the time I went on as supervisor when they organized.
PN: What, were some of the other types of workers on the railroad, did they already have unions prior to the one that…
CH: Yes, I belonged to the machinist's union before I took a supervisory job. All the other employees - supervisors, sheet metal workers - they all had their own union — electricians - they all are union people.
PN: Maybe this is a difficult question to answer, but some of the section foremen or face bosses in coal mines that I've spoken to, often have said that, that it may benefit them if they had had a union now. But they never have. Would you have any explanation as to why the super—, the foremen or the supervisors on the railroad organized one, and in the mines they didn’t?
CH: Well, the reason the supervisors organized was because they could take a foreman off a job, not even tell him why, just tell him: "You're not needed. We're putting so—and—so in your place." And he could not have any representation, no case where he could get his job back, or anything. It would just say: "You go." And this man would take your place. That's why the supervisors were organized. And we had one instant here where a supervisor went on vacation, and when he came back, they had put another man in his place to work his vacation, and just told him that he would maintain that job. So he had to go back to the tools, then later on he did get back as a supervisor, but not as the roundhouse foreman job which he had come off of. It was an assistant job, which didn't pay near ag much money. But we’ve had several cases like that, that that's why the supervisors organized. It has hurt them in some respects, because anybody that's under contract, they don't get near the pension that ones that are not under the contract get. And several of the fringe benefits that non—contract men do get. That would be beneficial in that respect. But I feel that organization gives you the protection that you need and is worthwhile.
PN: So before you had that though, say if you had 25 years, the company could essentially put me in your place if I'd been working there, you know, one year?
PN: If they felt like it?
CH: Yes, if they felt like it, it'd just be, master mechanic, whoever is charge of the hiring, would tell you that you're no longer needed. And that would be it. You wouldn't have any case to fight with, or no, no one to fight for you.
PN: Who are the type of people who would not be under any type of a contract?
CH: Well, general foreman, master mechanic they're not under contract. They're appointed jobs, and can be re—appointed any time.
PN: Any time?
CH: Or they can tell you to move. And you, if you don't go, then they would say: “We don't need you any longer.” If they want to do it that way.
PN: the superivsor's union or association would also give you some protection against their, their transferring you to some place you didn't want to move to?
CA: Yes, we'd have, we'd, we don't have to bid on jobs. Our, our jobs are put on the bulletin board for you to bid on. And the senior man that bids on that job receives the job.
PN: What, what was the role that the Hinton yards played in the whole C. and O. system? How would you describe that?
CH: Well, the yards, they took care of shifting the trains, getting the cars in position to go where they wanted them to g o. For instance, if they wanted a car, certain car numbers, to go to Rainelle, they would drop these cars at Meadow Creek. They would place 'em in a train where they could easily be dropped before the train leaves the yard. Then the train from Rainelle comes down the branch line, and will pick these cars up and take them to Rainelle. Same thing at Raleigh. If they have cars to go to Raleigh, they drop ‘em at Quinnimont. Train comes down from Quinnimont, and maybe brings loads down, takes empties back for the mines from Quinnimont. And the yard places these cars in the trains so that they can be dropped and distributed as they should be distributed.
PN: Is all this controlled from some central location now?
CH: Yes, we at the mechanical department, all of our instructions since we dieselized have come out of Baltimore. When they had the steam engines, the instructions came out of Richmond, Virginia. But now that they have combined with another railroad, I understand that their head— quarters will be back in Richmond, Virginia.
PN: When you were talking before about the differences between steam engines and diesel engines, were the lengths of the trains about the same, or do the diesel engines haul longer trains?
CH: Well, the diesels brought about longer trains, yes. They made the trains quite a bit longer with the diesels.
PN: How many coal cars would you say would be in a, a steam—engine—pulled train and a diesel train, on the average?
CH: I really, I've forgotten just how many. That's been quite a while since I've had anything to do with that, and I really don't know how much difference there was. But there was, like I say, instead of one unit, one engine at the head of the train and one a'pushing there wasn't too much of a difference in the length of them. I think they put some kind of a limit on the trains that you couldn't have 'em, because they were breaking a lot of trains In two, especially after they dieselized. All that weight was coming through each drawhead, and they were pulling couplers clear out of the cars a lot of the time. And they had to put limits on em, so that this, this wouldn't happen. But when they had steam engines, they'd take up that slack, be pushing half of that train together, and the other half pulling, and made a lot of difference in the trains breaking.
PN: Let me just pose a question about accidents to you. What types of, you know, of occupational injuries or accidents would tend to occur on the railroad, in your experience?
CH: Well, in the shops we had several accidents that would happen with maybe a part or, of an engine not being jacked properly. The jack would slip and maybe a person be injured from that. Or sometimes a chain would break and cause an injury with a heavy object hitting, striking someone. And we have had cranes that were used on the floor to turn over on account of too much weight, and injuries of that type. And sometime pretty, pretty serious injuries. There was one jacking incident where one machinist had two fingers cut off; the jack was, had a block of wood between it and the engine. And this block of wood split suddenly, and let the weight down and caught his fingers and cut em off. That was Bob Perry. And you had a good many injuries that way. Then every once in a while, someone would be hurt with a emery wheel; they, they weren't usually too serious they'd catch your hand, or glove, or something and maybe grind a little on your fingers or something like that. Then we had one, one machinist that had his eye knocked out, hitting a pipe die with a hammer. And these dies are very hard, and a chip of it come off and knocked his eye out. Then we would have burns and mashed fingers and things like that, that would happen on the fire pitch, where they cleaned the engines. They would get slash bar, they'd get their hand in the back of the slash bar instead of on the inside of the ring. And they'd go back, and maybe hit it on the tank, and that would bruise or cut their fingers. That, that was most usual type of injury that occurred there. Of course, there was a lot of people get sand in their eyes and thing like that, if it was the usual case, it'd just be temporary pain, nothing serious.
PN: Where did you live? Have you always lived in Hinton when you were working at the roundhouse?
CH: Well most of the employees lived in Hinton, but there were several from farms and the surrounding territories and some of 'em drive 15, 20 miles from Talcott and Sandstone, Meadow Creek, places like that. A lot of em had quite a ways to come. Most of em were right here in Hinton. This, this has been a railroading town for years.
PN: And you always lived here when you were working?
CH: Yes, I always lived here all the time, until I, until the diesels chased me away.
PN: What, what would be the general impact of the diesels on the size of Hinton?
CH: Well, there's an awful lot of the residents that worked at the shop that moved out. You had to move out of Hinton to get other employment, cause there just wasn't anything here but the railroad at that time. And most of the families would pick up and go somewhere else. A lot of them would go where there was seasonal work on the railroad, like Wallbridge. Several laborers down at the shop would go to Wallbridge, and get in the shop up there. There was several of them worked there when I was there. And then there was several of them that would go up and get jobs firing on the yard, when they loaded their ships and everything on the lakes. The summer business was good, and they used a lot of our personnel up there.
PN: Does the C. and O. still run them, or…?
CH: Yes, the C. and O. still operates the…
PN: These piers or yards?
CH: Do they what?
PN: Do they operate these facilities on the lakes that you were…
CH: No, the, they operate the trains. And I don't know, I guess they have regular dockworkers that take care of the dock. I don't whether they belong to the C. and O. Probably do, I know they own a whole lot of 'em at Newport News.
PN: What were they working with on the lakes mostly? Stuff like iron ore, or what would…
CH: Well, iron and coal. They shipped quite a bit of coal on the lakes.
PN: At Wallbridge?
CH: Wallbridge, Ohio.
PN: What was the seasonal work there that you mentioned?
CH: That?
PN: Yes.
CH: That's it.
PN: That's the place you were talking about?
CH: Yea, yea, it's right out of Toledo there.
PN: Let me just ask you a few questions about the, about the roundhouse now.
CH: All right.
PN: Could you start off by giving a general physical description of the way the roundhouse and the facilities looked?
CH: Well, when I went to work there, there was 17 stalls in the roundhouse. Four of them were small, short stalls where they serviced the yard engines. The other stalls were long enough to accommodate the largest engines we had at that time, which were the old Malley locomotive. And later on, when they bought these H—8 engines, they had to lengthen five of the stalls about 20 feet in order to take care of these larger engines. These larger engines would fit on the table with only about three inches of rail on each end, just enough to, for the flanges to clear so these engines would, could be turned. There was two pits in the house, Number 12 and Number 13 stall, where they had large drop—pit jacks to take care of driving wheels. And they had another third jack in the longer stall for engine trucks. When these longer stalls were built, they also put in two jacks in two of those stalls to take care of driving wheels on these longer engines. And they were electric jacks. The jacks that we had in the pits before, operated on air and water hydraulic. And these electric jacks, they let the whole platform down with a section of the rails, and their wheels just set on the rails. These water jacks, there was just one shaft in the center that came up, and engines were balanced, the wheels were balanced on this shaft, and lowered in this manner into the pit — which was pretty dangerous, because if you didn't have it exactly centered, you'd have more weight on one side of the wheels than the other, and these wheels could tilt off of the jack. But as the usual case, they, they had very good success with these jacks. They removed and replaced many a set of wheels with them. After they extended the length of the house, they put in a washroom and locker room and replaced the roundhouse office, which had been on a 7 little bank behind the roundhouse, and put it at the end of the roundhouse. And the foreman's office was joined with the roundhouse office there where the crew clerk did his calling of the crews. We had a machine shop, which had a wheel lathe, a small planing mill, a 30—foot turret lathe, two engine lathes, a ten—foot planer, a shaper, and a slotter, and a hydraulic press, and also an air press, and a drill press. In one corner of this round—, machine shop was the air room where all the air equipment on the engines was cleaned and tested at each quarterly inspection of the engines, and made serviceable to be put back on these engines. We usually kept a spare set of air equipment for each different class of engine that needed different classes of air equipment. So that when an engine would come in for this inspection, we would just take a new set of equipment and put it on the engine, and take the dirty set off and bring it in. The engine could go on out without having to wait for this engine equipment to be cleaned. Then they would clean this equipment when we were not busy removing and putting equipment on other units. This would save a lot of time, put the engine in service quicker, and give us more service out of our engines. We also had a mollyhouse, which had two pits in it, that one of the pits had drop rails where we could do our spring—rigging work and work of this type. The other pit was used for inspections of the big engines that were going east that did not have any major repairs, and did not need to go in the roundhouse for servicing. This also sped up the dispatching of the engines, and helped in that way. There was a stationary boiler back of the machine shop, with two locomotive boilers that were kept fired at all times to furnish steam for the heating of the building and operation of steam—electric compressor, or [correcting himself] steam—air compressor, and things of this sort that steam was needed for. If you needed to put a blower in an engine so you could work in a hot fire—box that had steam that hooked up right in the side of an engine, that would blow steam out the smokestack and draw cool air into this firebox so men could work in them, just after the fire had been knocked out. So that steam was needed at all times — summer and winter. It also was used to heat the passenger station, all the offices over top of the passenger station, and all the little shanties around through the yard where the men had their work to do, such as the weigh station where the scales were, and places of this sort.
PN: And where it was generated is in this little building not too far away from the machine shop?
CH: Yes, it was just above this machine shop on the hill there. And that was, there was one stationary fireman working in that each shift to take care of all of this. Our electric air compressor was located in the boiler shop, as well as the steam generator. I want to say generator, it's air compressor. And electric compressor was used all the time, and if it had trouble, that was the only time that the steam air compressor was operated. But both of them had to be kept in repair. Any time any trouble developed, a machinist — if it was mechanical or an electrician if it was electrical trouble would be assigned to correct the trouble.
PN: And you said, also near the roundhouse these were tracks where coal was put in the trains? [See accompanying diagram drawn by Mr. Hannah.]
CH: These tracks are where the fires were cleaned, and the cars went under— neath the track so when you opened the ash pan, it would fill these cars with cinders that come out of the fire box. And this was elevated in these cars into railroad cars, where when they were loaded they would be moved out and an empty car put in. Sometime we would fill as much as two cars in one eight—hour period, with ashes and cinders. out of these large locomotive fire boxes. We would unload as many as 10 or 12 cars of coal each shift, and elevate it into the coal dock to be dropped into the tanks of these locomotives when they would come through underneath the coal dock. When the cars were frozen in extremely cold weather, we would have fires built alongside the tracks before they would get to the drop pit to thaw these cars out to some extent. Sometimes we'd have to have as many as six or eight men in a car with coal picks breaking the coal loose so it would go down into the coal crusher to be elevated into the coal dock. We had three, and sometimes four, machinist's inspectors working on the inspection pit. There was an engine watchman, watching engines below the pit, and an engine watchman at the inspection pit to keep engines hot while they were being serviced. There was a, one laborer that filled all the lubricators, and did work of that kind, supplying the engines — putting the wrenches, monkey wrenches, pipe wrenches, and hammer and chisel, and waste ["Material rejected during a textile manufacturing process and used usu. for wiping away dirt and oil,” Webster's Dictionary] which had to be put on these locomotives, so that when they come through that they would be ready to go right on out on the road. This required quite a-bit of attention, because tools were scarce at times. Sometime we'd have to beg a man to go without his pipe wrench, or without a monkey wrench or something, because there were no tools on hand. They would, and sometimes an engine would come in, and maybe two or three wrenches on it, where someone had worked on it and left their tools that shouldn't have been placed on that engine. But that's why there was a shortage, because of prop—, improper distribution.
PN: Of tools?
CH: That's right.
PN: And you said that today that only a portion of the roundhouse is standing, especially where they had the longer tracks?
CH: Yes, they have a, they 've cut over half of the roundhouse down, completely level led it. And the tool shop, the machine shop, the storeroom [that] was above the machine shop — a building 70 or 80 feet long it has been removed and re— it's at the east yard now. Any time you need a part for the locomotive, you have to call the east yard, two miles away, and they have to bring something down that you need, on a truck. And this has been rather inconvenient to the shop men, but it's at the car shop where a lot of tools are needed at, or a lot of equipment's needed at the car shop. But all this has been destroyed in order that they wouldn't have to pay taxes on this building. That's the reason for tearing all this down. It was not in use. These tracks are still there [from the roundhouse]; they just use them for storage of old scrap cars that are, been damaged, and things like that that they have no use for at the time. They stick 'em in these tracks, just to have a place to put them.
PN: What was the year that that was torn down?
CD: Oh I, I couldn't tell you. It's been some time.
PN: Would that be in the fifties sometime, or…
CH: I'd say in the sixties.
PN: Sixties. And do you know when the roundhouse was…?
CH: Or may—, maybe, maybe the early seventies .
Do you know when the roundhouse was originally built?
CH: No, I couldn't tell you that.
PN: Let me just ask you another question about the work—force, you know, here in Hinton, you know, at these yards. You know, many of the mines along New River, there were, you know, a number of Black miners and miners from, that immigrated from Europe. Would the same, would there be European immigrants or Black workers here in Hinton working for the railroad too?
CH: Yes, we had an awful lot of colored employees. There, there was even a, several colored machinists that worked when I went to work there. And we have always had good relations. I've worked colored employees under me that a, inspection pit, on the fire pits, and in the coa—, around the coal dock. And we’ve always had awfully good relationship. And I can’t complain on any of em. I've had some of em that I think an awful lot of, and I 'm sure they think a lot of me too. But as long as I worked on the railroad, I won't say I didn't have some trouble with the men, but I never did take one man to the office. Any kind of trouble we had, we thrashed it out among ourselves, and that was it. I've had a few words with some of 'em, had to get 'em straightened out, where they'd do their work right. But it usually just took one or two times, and they knew where I stood and I knew where they stood. And I had an awfully good working relationship with all of them.
PN: If you had to start over your career again, would you do the same thing? Or do you think you'd pick something different?
CH: I don't think I could have done much better with, with what I had to go on. I just had a high school education, and went in on my time. I had to get in before I was 21, to start out as an apprentice. And I lacked four months of being 21. And I had been trying to get a job with the railroad for approximately 18 months before that time. And there had been two machinist apprentices finished their time that hadn't been replaced. At the time I was hired, that was 1938, things were pretty slack yet, and just beginning to pick up a little. 14men I went to work down there engines in what we called "white lead" completely out of service. I expect there was 50 engines setting out on these tracks idle. And it wasn't many years after I went to work there that they were all in service. Of course, we had the war started, and that put everything we had in inmediate use.
PN: Why was that called "white lead"?
CH: Pardon?
PN: Why did they refer to them as being engines…
CH: In "white lead.”
PN: Yea. Why was that?
CH: Just, just, that was just the words that they used for storage. They a, white lead was a paint that they would use, that they would grease all these main rods and side rods and everything with just a coat of grease so they wouldn't just set there and rust. And when they took them out of white lead, we had to clean all this grease off of these engines. Of course, they had a wash pit there for that. This hot, scalding water — just almost steam — and it would cut this grease awfully good. But these engines would have to be cleaned up and inspected. A lot of times a part or two would be missing off of them. There they would need a part for another engine, wouldn't have it in the storeroom, they would slip out and take the part off of these engines and use it. And maybe it hadn't been replaced on the engine setting on the white—lead track, so we would have to inspect the engines, and fire them up, and get them serviceable before they could be put in use. And all these inspection cards had to be placed in the cab, to let the federal people know that these engines were inspected at this certain date, so that they would be eligible for service.
PN: Let me just ask you a couple of more quick questions here. What did your two grandfathers do for a living? Did they work for the railroad also?
CH: No. My grandfather, one of em was a Methodist minister.
PN: At Hinton?
CH: No, in Little Gap Mountain. That's Summers County, but not in Hinton.
And I never did know, my other one was just a farmer. He didn't have any occupation other than farming.
PN: In Summers County?
CH: Yes, right up on this mountain right here — Zion Mountain.
PN: So your family goes quite far back then right in this, in this local area here?
CH: That was the big industry back then. That was just about all there was. That and the railroad.
PN: Do you know when the railroad first came through here? Was it around 1873, when they built Stretcher Neck Tunnel, or was it…?
CH: No, I couldn't tell you what year it first came through here. But it, it's away back in 1800s, I’d say.
PN: So Hinton existed as a railroad town really, prior to the time that the New River fields were really developed in terms of their coal mines?
CH: Well, I, I really don't know about that. But they've been hauling coal ever since I can remember.
PN: Was that, would you say, the major type of freight that moves through…
CH: That was the only freight, you might say, for years. Then those manifests, there was very little of it until, well I guess it started picking up along in the thirties. Until now, It's pretty much a major part of the railroad's — manifests.
PN: And they would be hauling all types of freight?
CH: All types. I've seen everything come through here from grains of wheat to automobiles and Army tractors and e very thing e Ise.
PN: You said that the locomotives and the railroad operations were regulated by federal laws? So the inspections you did had to comply with them?
CH: Yes, they, our railroad federal inspectors come through here at times when you least expect them. And these inspectors, the supervisor will go with him, and he will ready to go out. And inspect usually all the units that are coming in, or any defects he finds, he can stop the engines from moving out.
[End of Tape]
Oral History Project - Jackson, Ada Wilson 1980
Homemaker, African American, life in the coal camps, Women's Auxiliary, 1943 strike
[The subsequent interview, tape twenty—seven, is with Mrs. Jackson's mother, Mrs. Lula Lall Jones. Mrs. Jones makes an occasional remark during this tape; and Mrs. Jackson makes an occasional remark during the subsequent tape.]
PN: Mrs. Jackson, just to start off, maybe I could ask you where you were born?
AJ: I was born in Kentucky. I 'm a bluegrass woman. I was born in Kentucky.
PN: Really?
AJ: Mm. And raised in West Virginia.
PN: What was the town you were born in?
AJ: Erlington, Erlington, Kentucky.
PN: And then you moved to West Virginia?
AJ: My mother moved, we moved to West Virginia.
PN: What was the date that you were born?
AJ: August the 23rd, 1912.
PN: How old were you when you moved to West Virginia?
AJ: Four years old, wasn't it? Four years old.
PN: So you don't have too many memories of Kentucky yourself?
AJ: No, no, not at all.
PN: Where did you move when you moved to West Virginia?
AJ: We moved to Gary, West Virginia.
PN: Why did you move there?
AJ: Well, my daddy had a guy, he was just a miner, and he got a job there in Gary in West Virginia. And we moved from Kentucky to West Virginia.
PN: He worked for U. S. Steel there?
AJ: Yes, uh huh.
PN: How long did you live in Gary?
AJ: How long did we live in Gary, Mom?
DJ: About ten years.
AJ: Ten years.
PN: Ten years?
AJ: Mm.
PN: Did you move up to, to…
AJ: Concho, to, to Number 6, West Virginia.
PN: Which was Concho?
AJ: No, that's Gary, that's still in on over on the N. and W. Number 6, West Virginia. That's still on N. and W., up at Gary, over where Gary, you know; it's all still Gary.
PN: And when did you move up to the town of Concho?
AJ: In 1922, October the 31st.
PN: Why did you move? Did your father have a better job?
AJ: He had out a job, a better job over here.
PN: What was he doing in Gary?
AJ: Mining.
PN: What did he do, though, in…
AJ: Load coal.
PN: He loaded coal?
AJ: Mm.
PN: What did he do when he came up to Concho? Did he load coal?
AJ: Load coal.
PN: What was the mine that he worked at when he lived in Concho?
AJ: Rock Lick Smokeless Coal Company.
PN: Was that the only mine that they had?
AJ: No, they had one down on, up the hill, was Erskine. But they were both the same mines. But they called that one Erskine, down up under the hill because you had to go down on a little car to get to that one, to Erskine.
PN: And the mine that he worked in was right there at Concho?
AJ: My Daddy, no my Daddy worked at Rock Lick. He didn't work down to Erskine; he worked down in Rock Lick.
PN: Rock Lick?
AJ: Mm.
PN: How many, was Concho right near Rock Lick, you said?
AJ: Yes, about over a mile, a little over; that's where the store was.
PN: Where, at Rock Lick?
AJ: Uh huh, and then they put a store out at Concho.
PN: When he went to work, how long was the walk for him to go to work?
AJ: About, about three miles up there from Concho to where he had to go to work.
PN: Every day?
AJ: Every day, they had a ride. And some, one time, they would go through the drift mouth — up there on top of the hill at Concho. And then they would ride through that. And then they would get to Rock Lick.
PN: How many, did most of the people that lived in Concho work in the Rock Lick mine?
AJ: Yea, most of them worked in the Rock Lick mine.
PN: When you lived, when you moved to Concho in 1922, how many people lived there, would you say?
AJ: Bow many, Momma, I don’t…
PN: About 60 families.
AJ: Mm, about 60 families, she said, uh huh. Mom, you come talk, you know better, how more to talk than I do?
PN: Maybe I could keep on talking to you, and them maybe after talk to her.
AJ: Uh huh.
LJ: I can't talk too much; I got a sore throat.
PN: You said that Concho was right on the top of the mountain?
AJ: Uh huh, right up on top, looked right over the hill down to Thurmond. We used to walk down the hill to Thurmond — go to the movies. And then there were stores down there. And the station was down there then, the C. and O. station was down there. All the trains came in to Thurmond at that time.
PN: How did you get down there? Did you just walk straight down the mountain?
AJ: Why, right straight down the mountain, and down the railroad track.
PN: Where did that, where did you come out at, that little town called Weewind?
AJ: That's right, a little town called Weewind. Cross the log, and go on, and get on the track, and go on to Thurmond.
PN: When you were living in Concho, and you said about 60 families lived there, were some of them white and some of them Black?
AJ: Well, at first when we moved down there, they were mixed. And then, the most of the white people, they moved down to Rock Lick. And then there wasn't any, any, there were Black people out there then.
PN: That lived in Concho?
AJ: Uh huh,
PN: How long did Concho stay in existence until?
AJ: Nineteen and forty—two, wasn't it? Yea, 1942.
PN: What happened then?
AJ: The mines blew out.
PN: So everybody just started moving away?
AJ: Move, moving, and just strayed away, and came, some came to New River and same, some went other places.
PN: But most of the peo—, most of the miners had to find…
AJ: Jobs, they all of them, all of them had to find jobs, uh huh.
PN: Was that hard for people to find jobs at that time?
AJ: Not, not, not too bad, no, not at that time. Some went up to Carlisle, and some went to Minden, and some came to Whipple, and some came to, you know, different mine around, over on, near Beckley Cranberry and all over in there.
LJ: Minden.
AJ: Minden, Lochgelly, and Summer lee.
PN: You said that there was a, that they built a company store in Concho?
AJ: After, after, yes they had a, had a company store in Concho. The first, it was at Rock Lick, but then they put one around Concho.
PN: Because there were so many people living in Concho?
AJ: Uh huh, so many people living there.
PN: When did they build that?
AJ: Oh, I don't…
PN: In the thirties?
AJ: Along about in the thirties, just about in the thirties.
PN: When you moved there in 1922, were there any other buildings in Concho besides just the houses?
LJ: Nothing but homes, just homes around there.
AJ: A schoolhouse, schoolhouse, there was a schoolhouse.
PN: What, did the schoolhouse go through eighth grade?
AJ: Yes, it went through the eighth grade.
PN: Was there any churches there?
LJ: Yes, we had a little church sitting up on the hill overlooking Thurmond.
PN: What kind of a church was that?
LJ: A little wooden church.
PN: What was it, a Baptist church?
LJ: Bap— , Baptist church, yes it was a Baptist church.
PN: Was there a regular preacher there?
LJ: Yea, Rev. Craig, Rev. H. C. Craig.
PN: Craig?
AJ: Mm, Rev. H. C. Craig.
PN: Was he a full—time minister?
AJ: Yes, he was a full—time, until he retired him.
PN: Did he work in the coal mines too?
AJ: No, no, he didn't work in the coal mines, cause he lived in Beckley.
PN: What would he do? He would come up, you know, on a Sunday?
AJ: On Sundays, mm.
LJ: The company paid him $20.
AJ: The company paid him $20 a Sunday.
PN: Oh really?
AJ: During then, to come to preach.
PN: To preach?
AJ: Uh huh, during that time.
PN: How did he get up there from Beckley, take the train?
AJ: Catch a bus, Greyhound bus, and walk from Oak Hill or Rock Lick, if he didn't catch a ride.
PN: Oh, cause they had a bus service back then?
AJ: Oh yea, we had Greyhound bus service,
PN: The Rock Lick mine that you said your father worked in — how many miners were working in that mine?
AJ: Oh, a gang of em, oh quite a few. Cause there was Concho, Dunedin, and Rock Lick; in all, there's three different little old mining towns down there. They all worked at the same, down around Rock Lick.
PN: So what, all the people from those three towns worked at the same mine?
AJ: They all worked, worked in the same mine.
PN: Were there as many as three or four hundred working, do you think?
AJ: Oh there were more than that, mm.
PN: Maybe 600 or so?
AJ: Yea, just about that many.
PN: How many of them were white, and how many were Black? What was the rough…
AJ: I couldn't, couldn’t guess that.
LJ: More white than there was Black.
AJ: Mm.
PN: When your father was loading coal, beginning in 1922, was he able to get another job at any time, like, like being a brakeman or running a motor?
AJ: No he didn't, he didn't do anything. He never ran a motor, or didn't brake, do any braking. He just loaded coal.
PN: How many days a week did he usually work there?
AJ: Oh sometime in 1930, he worked seven days a week.
PN: Seven?
AJ: He'd go, it'd be dark when he left home, and dark when he came back.
PN: But he worked every single day?
AJ: Every single day; he didn't miss a day. And he would come home some— time, and he would have to, he wouldn't even get to change his clothes, because he would just lay down behind the stove or in front of the grate, and get up and go back to work again.
PN: How many hours a day did he have to work then?
AJ: They didn't have, they didn't have no special hours. You worked till you brought the, they tell you: "Bring your tools, or bring the cut or bring your tools." And they didn't ask what they'd have to do. They have to stay in there till they get through.
PN: What if you didn't finish your work, they, they told you to get out?
AJ: That's right, nun, that's right.
PN: When did the United Mine Workers get to be organized again, when your
Dad was working there?
AJ: Now, when was it? That was in, I can't remember that now, but
PN: About 33?
AJ: About '33 or 34, somewhere along in there.
PN: Did you know when he was working in Gary, earlier, was the United Mine Workers down there? When he was working…
AJ: No, there wasn't no United Mine Workers then, no.
PN: Do you remember any, any differences in the period when there was no union and the period after the union came back again?
AJ: Yes, mm.
PN: Maybe you could talk about that a little bit.
AJ: Well, in the first starting of it, when they weren't making, he was getting 33 cents a ton for coal in the, in the, when the, when there wasn't a union. But then they raised it to 47 cents a ton, and then they raised it up to 60—some cents a ton.
PN: That's when the union came in?
AJ: That's when the union came in, then that's when they began to, you know, get a little more.
PN: Were the men protected a little bit better, and not able to be fired so easy?
AJ: Yes, after the union was in here, and they got the union in, they were.
PN: Would you say that the people felt a little bit freer to speak?
AJ: Yes they did, speak free, they felt freer to speak.
PN: Would you say it helped the Black miners in any particular way?
AJ: Yes, it helped them a whole lot, because they got the same basis, you know, that the white, the white man did.
LJ: See, so we could buy just what the white man bought.
PN: Before that, in the days when there was no union, did the company sometimes pay, pay the Black miners less than they paid the white miners for the same work? Or was it…?
AJ: No, I don't know, no, I don't think that, no.
LJ: Well, the white miners didn't load coal until, they always did the other kind of work run the motors and do things like that, machines and everything. Didn't nobody load coal but the Black man. I was surprised when 1 came to West Virginia, and the white man was loading coal. Cause the Black man, that was the Black man's job.
PN: Back when you were living in Concho, did you get married at any time in Concho?
AJ: I got married in Concho?
PN: You did?
AJ: Mm.
PN: In the little church there? Or at home?
AJ: At home.
PN: At home?
AJ: Mm.
PN: What did your husband do?
AJ: He was a brakeman.
PN: In the same mine?
AJ: In the same mine, mm.
PN: How long did he work there, do you remember?
LJ: He worked there 12 years, and then he came to Lochgelly.
PN: He was a brakeman, though?
AJ: Uh huh, and then he started being a machine man. He was a machine helper, a machine helper when he got over to Lochgelly.
PN: What years did he work there at the…?
AJ: In, from 1928 on up until 1942. And at first, he was making S 2.88 a day; then they raised it to four, $4.50. And then when President Roosevelt got in, they got seven dollars and some cents a day. And then from then on, it went up. But he was working for $2.88 cents a day. And he would go, it'd be dark when he'd go and dark when he came back.
PN: That's when you were first married?
AJ: Yes, when we were first married, mm.
PN: In 1942, is that when he went to Lochgelly?
AJ: He came here; yes, he came here and went to Lochgelly. He came to
Lochgelly in 1942.
PN: Where is the Lochgelly mine; is that right up the road here?
AJ: No, Lochgelly doesn't have a mine. Summerlee has the mine, but you, you pass by the White Oak Country Club; you'll see, see, when you get past Tyree Funeral Home, and you’ll see Summerlee Road. And that's, the tipple is over at Summerlee.
PN: That's where he worked then?
AJ: No, he worked at Lochgelly; but when he was working at Lochgelly, there was a tipple at Lochgelly. But after Lochgelly blew out, the tipple was over at Summerlee.
PN: Let me, af—, say, say after you got married in 1928, and your husband would be going to work in the mine every day, what would you spend most of your time during a typical day doing?
AJ: Housework, housework, taking care of the children, sewing, cooking, feeding chickens [and] hogs, working in the garden.
PN: I was going to ask you about that too.
AJ: Working in the garden, working in the garden, raised hogs, chickens — had more chickens out there than there was on any chicken farm. Hogs, cows, just anything you, anything it was, you name it, the people out there had it.
PN: You had cows too?
AJ: Yes, we had cows, horses.
PN: Horses?
AJ: Mm.
PN: What types of things did you grow in the garden?
AJ : Everything, everything that could be grown, just everything.
PN: Did you also buy some types of food at the company store?
AJ : Oh yes, we bought plenty of food at the store. Sure you know, we bought, we bought food at the store. But we canned a lot of food too.
PN: Would you say most of your food, you got from canning, or…
AJ: Yes, we canned and raising the hogs and things, but still bought food from the store, you know, but not like that you canned.
PN: If you slaughtered a hog, what would you do to save the meat? Would you salt it or…
AJ: Yea. First you had to have to salt it down, and let it stay so long. And then you turn it, you'd have to turn it over, you know, to keep it dry, you know. And then after you cure it, you put it in a bag and hang it up. And you had your hams, your shoulders, your bacon, and that.
PN: So you could keep that for months then?
AJ: For years, mm, for years. Just cut it out there and put it in the smoke house.
PN: What did you, you know, did you keep the cows mainly for milk, right?
AJ: Milk and butter.
PN: Did you ever slaughter steers or cows?
AJ: They slaughtered everything over there veal, calfs, everything.
PN: Did the people that lived in Concho, did they go fishing down in the river a lot?
AJ: Oh yea, mm. Hunting, fishing.
PN: What did they catch when they went fishing, usually?
AJ: They were mostly catfish, and different kinds, most any kind out of New River.
PN: How about hunting? What did people…
AJ: Oh, you hunted everything over there: rabbits, squirrels, deers, different things like that.
PN: Did you ever go fishing yourself?
AJ: I'd go down there, but I didn't fish. I’d go to the river every day, but I didn't fish. [laughs] Didn't never stick my foot no further in, then I'd go up to my knees in the water [laughs] Ride down on the cage; that's what it was, ride down on the cage and get on a sandbar and stay all day, and come back up the hill, you know. And I used to have, when my husband worked at Erskine, if I didn't fix his breakfast before he left, I would have to carry it down that incline, ride that truck down that incline, or walk down there.
PN: Really? Where was the driftmouth? Was that halfway down or…
AJ: The driftmouth was sitting up on/ top of the hill. But see, he worked, that's the one that went through to Rock Lick, the driftmouth. But he, when he was working at Erskine, you had to ride this cage down, you know, this little car down the hill.
PN: Where was the entry to that mine, to Erskine, at the bottom?
AJ: Yea, Erskine was at the bottom there, and there was houses down there at Erskine too. Mostly Spaniards lived down there.
PN: Really?
AJ: Mm.
PN: Where did they come from?
AJ: I don' t know where those Spaniards came from. I just knew they, it was one Black family down there. That was, what’s the name? Oh, Mary's husband.
LJ: Down where?
AJ: Down at Erskine. Mary, Mary Chambers. Mr. Chambers, the Chambers lived down there. They were the o n1y Black people practically down to Erskine.
PN: Were the Spaniards, did they come from Mexico? Or did they come from Spain in Europe?
AJ: I don't know, but they were just. You might know some of them, one of them that worked down there runs Skyline over here now. One used to work down there, Ebelina. He runs the Skyline Drive—In over on the road now [in Hilltop].
PN: Oh he does? He used to work there?
AJ: He used to work down to Erskine, uh huh.
PN: Did they speak Spanish often?
AJ: Oh yea, they all
PN: Did they speak English as well?
AJ: As well, mm.
PN: When you went down there during the day, when you rode the truck down and stayed around New River, did you just sit on the sandbar and…
AJ: Yea, and let the children play, mm. And some would be fishing; and some would be swimming; and all like that.
PN: Was there a problem swimming in the river with the currents?
AJ: Oh, but they didn't get that far out, no. Just, just a little ways out; no, because too much, too many currents in New River for them to get too far out in there.
PN: Oh, you'd be sitting there and watching them.
AJ: Just watching them. No. I own 12 bathing suits and can swim like that stove, about like a rock. [laughs]
PN: Did many other mothers bring their children down there?
AJ: Oh yea, we used to go down there, mm, nearly all the time. And we walked down there to the movies, go to Thurmond to the movies until they put the movies up in Oak Hill. Because you had to go to Thurmond; that was the only place you could go to the movies.
PN: Where was the movie theater, over where that Banker's Club is now?
AJ: I think, yes, I would imagine so. I don't know where the Banker's Club is; I haven't been down there. [Short interruption here.]
PN: You were talking about the movie theater in Thurmond. Was the theater segregated back then?
AJ: Yes, they were, mm. Yes, they were.
PN: Did they have separate section for Black people and for whites, or something?
AJ: Yea, mm.
PN: How about the union though? The union, though, would always organize everybody in the same local union, wouldn't they?
AJ: Yea, they all were, all the men were, the miners were, you know, like it is now, they all.
PN: What else did you do for entertainment? You mentioned going down to the river and going to the movies. Was there anything else that people did for fun?
AJ: Oh yea, they had a big nice ball club out there. They had a big ball club. They'd, everybody, Kingston, everywhere around, you know; they played ball, go down here on the river everywhere. They had a wonderful ball club out there.
PN: What vas the name of that? Do you remember?
AJ: No I can't remember the name of the ball club. They'd go up in Ames, Jean, and all up in there and play ball.
PN: Was that at Rock Lick there was a club?
AJ: That was at Rock Lick, at Concho; that was at Concho.
PN: It was at Concho?
AJ: Uh huh, and Rock Lick together, both of the, they were combined.
PN: Where was the baseball field?
AJ: Over there just where the schoolhouse used to sit.
PN: In Concho?
AJ : In Concho, mm.
PN: And then people would come from other coal camps to play at Concho some time?
AJ: Yea, yes they would.
PN: Was the ball club, was that an all—Black club?
AJ: No, they were mixed. There was both?
AJ: Mm.
PN: That's interesting, cause I know in Raleigh County, it usually seemed to be like all—white or all—Black ball clubs.
AJ: No, they were mixed; they were all together.
PN: Were all the people on the baseball club, were they coal miners?
AJ: If they weren't miners, if they wasn't loading coal, coal miners, they were all miners, yes, they were all miners, they were all coal miners.
PN: Do you know that if, if down in Thurmond, did the railroad workers, did they ever have a baseball club?
AJ: No, I don't believe, no.
PN: Cause I had never heard of one there, I was…
AJ: The women had a baseball club over at Concho; we had a baseball club, no softball.
PN: Oh really?
AJ: Yea, softball. We used to go down to Thurmond and play, and around different places.
PN: So the softball club would go to different towns and play different softball clubs?
AJ: We went to different, uh huh, yes we did, mm.
PN: Back in 1922, when you first moved to Concho, did many, did you have a radio, did people have radios then?
AJ: Yea, [they] had radios then, and that's cause, that, cause they used to have Ma Perkins and oh I can't think of the others, other programs. We enjoyed it as well as you do the television now. Cause you didn't have to stop to watch that; you just, Helen Trenton, Ma…
LJ: Idell Sunday.
AJ: Idell Sunday and all were on the radio then.
PN: People used to listen to them a lot?
AJ: Mm, that was, that was the, their day.
PN: Did people play cards much?
AJ: Yes, they played cards.
PN: Did the women play cards too?
AJ: Yea sure, we played cards.
PN: What were the games that you usually played, do you remember?
AJ: Whist, five—up, setback, that's what we played.
PN: Did the men play poker a lot?
AJ: Well they didn't play in Concho. They would go off, you know, to other town [s] and play poker. They didn't play around Concho.
PN: Was it hard to get moonshine, or liquor, if you wanted it back then?
AJ: Until the liquor store came in, until the liquor store came in, you didn't get it, you know; you didn't get any whiskey like that.
PN: Did many people make moonshine?
AJ: No, not down around Concho, no. Didn't nobody around Concho make any.
PN: How about Thurmond?
AJ: Thurmond was rough. I don't know, you know, Thurmond was a rough town in those days, only thing I couldn't tell you about those people down there. Cause we would just go down to go to the stores, and just go down, you know, to the movie and things like that.
PN: So when you lived in Concho, you [would] shop both in the company store right there…
AJ: Mm, or else, come out to Oak Hill or around to Rock Lick just, either one of them you wanted to shop, you know. You didn't have no special one, just any one you wanted to shop. Because the company store had just as nice as stuff as it was up town and anywhere else. They had much better stuff.
PN: Would they give you scrip?
AJ : Yes, you had got scrip, mm.
PN: Could you use that scrip in some of the other stores?
AJ : Yes you could, up town, anywhere, mm.
PN: So if you went down to Thurmond, and bought something there, could you use your scrip there.
AJ: No, just up in Oak Hill and around, around there, up town, because they didn't use it out Thurmond.
PN: When you were talking before, you mentioned that you said you thought there was a real community feeling in Concho. Maybe you could talk about that a little bit, and why you think that existed then, but doesn't exist so much today.
AJ: Well, people in those days, they were just neighbors. When they didn't, just anything, if I want, I had, you had. I could come get some— thing from you it wasn't anything said. Or you just, you didn't just, come over, you could come over and say, “Well, I want so and so and so and so.” Well, that was all of it. And if I went out and seen something that I thought one of my other neighbors wanted, I 'd bring it back. Or if the other neighbor go out and see something I want, they would bring it back. And so, that was that. Children got along fine.
PN: If one miner got hurt in the mine and say, couldn't go to work for four or five months, and couldn't make money for his family…
AJ: Well, he didn't have to worry cause the people take care of him. They would take care of him. He wasn't worried about nothing, whatever. My husband or my Daddy or the next one would give his wife their card, scrip card, or whatever it was. And all they had to do was go get what they wanted. They didn't have to worry about a thing. Course he didn't have all the utilities you had to pay like you do now. Only thing you had was coal. And you go get the coal, and that was that.
PN: What did the houses look like then?
AJ: Beautiful then; they were beautiful around there. I lived in a big, two—storey house. And the man that bought, bought our house. The baseboard looked like oh it was beautiful, and he, Skaggs, a man named Skaggs — lived right here at Oak Hill - he bought our house. We had an upstairs and a downstairs, and then a basement, and a attic. And we had four rooms upstairs and four rooms downstairs. And the cabinets in the kitchen looked better than any cabinet you can buy now. And Mike Seminary was the one that was selling the houses, and he tried to g et everybody to stay in Concho. And Concho would have been a paradise if the people had a stayed there. And my, my front porch was all the way around the house. Great big house sitting up on the hill.
PN: Was that a company house that you rented from the company?
AJ: Mm, yea, that was a company house. All of 'em were company houses till they started selling them.
PN: And your family was the only one that lived in that house? When you lived there, or was that two families that…
AJ: Two families — my husband's mother and myself that lived there in that.
PN: How many people were in your family, or how many children did you have?
AJ: Two.
PN: Two?
AJ: Mm.
PN: Was the house made out of wood, you said?
AJ: Yes, wood, all of them were made out of wood.
PN: Were they painted?
AJ: Yea, beautiful, mm, different colors, mm.
PN: Was Concho, were the houses in Concho better than in many of the other mining towns around?
AJ: Oh yea, yes they were, they certainly were.
PN: Why was that, they were so good there?
AJ: I don't know, but they were, one time they didn't allow no colored people in Concho. Couldn't no Black people live in Concho. They didn't allow them to even come through Concho. When they came up the mountain from Thurmond, you couldn't come through Concho. And then after the mine started and all the union started, then they began to let 'em live in Concho.
PN: When did that change take place?
AJ: I don't, that was a little bit before we moved from over on the N. and W. over there.
PN: What was Concho first? It wasn't a mining town when it was built first?
AJ: I don't know about that; I wouldn't know about that. I wouldn't know about that.
PN: What, what did your husband's father do?
AJ: He was a coal miner.
PN: He was a coal miner too? Where, right on the New River?
AJ: No, Concho, and he moved, after he moved from Concho, he went to Beckley, and he retired.
PN: That was your husband's father?
AJ: Uh huh.
PN: And he was a coal miner for his whole life too?
AJ: Yes, he was a coal miner for his whole life.
PN: Let me just ask you a couple of more things about some of the other people. You mentioned that there were, you know, Hispanic people living down at Erskine.
AJ: On down to Erskine. Spaniards - they all lived down at Erskine.
PN: Did they live in many of the other towns? Or were they concentrated there?
AJ: Well, they just lived down there. Some lived around Rock Lick too.
But most of them lived down at Erskine.
PN: Were there many immigrants, like Poles or Hungarians or Italians that came in to work in the mines?
AJ: No. There was some Italians around there. But they were just, you know, they would inbreed, inbred. They just came there.
PN: They did?
AJ: Uh huh. Just, you know, like they would come from different mines to get a job, and things like that.
PN: What did they do in the mines?
AJ: Well, they loaded coal, then different things like braking, loading coal.
PN: How about the Spaniards? Were they all coal miners mostly?
AJ: Yes, they were all coal miners too.
PN: Did many people live in Concho, did they have cars?
AJ: Yea, they had cars. Yea, after the union came in, they had every— thing they wanted.
PN: And when you travel led, did you use [a] car or did you use [the] trains?
AJ: Like going where? Out of state, or what?
PN: That was another question. How much did you travel then?
AJ: Oh, well there was, it used to be a little train would come up from Thurmond up to Minden. And well, they cut that out. And then when you get, get ready to go, you had to go down to Thurmond to catch the train, you know, to go some other place, like, you know, going out of state or some— thing like that. And you could, you could go anywhere you wanted to on a train. You could go to Charleston and back in the same day on a train, cause there was 13 trains running then.
PN: Did you often go up to Charleston?
AJ: We'd go, went everywhere.
PN: You did?
AJ: Just all the time.
PN: Did you go down in the other direction, towards Prince and Hinton?
AJ: No we didn't have to do a thing but go right down the mountain to
Thurmond and get off and come on back home.
PN: So you wouldn't go down in that direction.
AJ: No, wouldn't go down Prince until they started cutting off all the trains, you know, and taking the station out from down Thurmond. Then you had to go, that's when they started having to go to Prince.
PN: When you travel led, did you usually go up towards Charleston.
AJ: No, up towards Charleston, Cincinnati, and that—a—way, mm.
PN:Did you ever visit Cincinnati yourself back then?
AJ: No, I never did. I only just, you know, during train stops. I always went to Chicago. That's as far as I got, as far, Chicago, that's all.
PN: Did you have relatives up there?
AJ: Yes, I have relative, I have three brothers up there now.
PN: What were they doing back then? Were they…
AJ: They were going to school; they were young. They were going to school.
PN: In Chicago?
AJ: No, here in West Virginia, in West Virginia. No, they were in West Virginia.
LJ: That is Steven's father in Chicago.
PN: Did many of the women back then make their own clothes?
AJ: Sure, everybody had a machine sewed, quilted, embroidered, did everything like that.
PN: Would they make more things than they would buy, do you think?
AJ: That's right, mm. Make more then you'd buy.
PN: Did women ever do things like, like make soap? And things like that too?
AJ: Sure, mm, everything.
PN: They did? Were there any kind of lodges or fraternal orders that
AJ: Yes, they had em a Masons, a Masonic lodge; that's the same thing, isn't it - Masons?
PN: Was that just white, or was that both white and Black?
AJ: Well, the white had theirs; the Black had theirs.
PN: [If] someone that lived in Concho belonged to a lodge, where would their lodge be back at that time?
AJ: It was down Harvey, down here at Harvey, West Virginia, you know, they'd have to come to Harvey.
PN: Oh, was that the Black…?
AJ: Uh huh, mm.
PN: And then did the white Masons have a lodge at Thurmond?
AJ: Yea, they had; no, they had theirs up in Oak Hill.
PN: There was a lodge in Thurmond at one time. Do you remember that at all? [This lodge was a white Mason's lodge.]
AJ: No, I don't remember that one.
PN: Were there any other types of organizations that people would belong to?
AJ: Well, the Auxiliary after the union came in. The women had a, a organization called the Auxiliary.
PN: They did?
AJ: A branch off from the Miners.
PN: What did, did you belong to that?
AJ: Yes we did.
PN: What did, maybe you could describe what you did.
AJ : Oh well, we had a little fund, you know, and to help the needy and different things like that. And we had a meeting about twicet a month. And everybody would get together. Now that, both Black and white was in that.
PN: Really?
AJ: Mm.
PN: Was that one of the only social organizations where both white and Black people belonged to it?
AJ: That's the one, that's the Auxiliary.
PN: Did you help out during strikes?
AJ: Oh yes, mm.
PN: What did you do then?
AJ: Well we, we'd stand on that picket line keep 'em from going in the mines. Cause we stood up here for 53 days, up here at the top of the railroad track, right up here. And so we had it, we had a nice, it was nice, just, just, some of the women just, we loved it. Because that we were out for the men and the miners, and we stuck with it for 53 days.
PN: What year was that?
AJ: That was in, let me see, when did President Roosevelt…
LJ: '43 wasn't it?
AJ: For ty— , around ' 43, that's when it was, around '43 or, around ’43.
PN: 33?
AJ: ' 43, around T 43.
PN: And Roosevelt was still in?
AJ: Yes , uh huh.
PN: What were the people trying to get in that strike? Was It higher wages mostly?
AJ: Higher, more wages and better benefits, and mm.
PN: But the union had already been around for…
AJ: Yes, the union had been around for a while, but they were, they were wanting more money.
PN: Yea, it's interesting though; were the women as active as the men in the strike, would you say?
AJ: They didn't allow the men up there. The men couldn't come up. Couldn t none of them go up there but women.
PN: Was that because of a court injunction, or…?
AJ: Yes, the men wasn't allowed up there. See, just the women were allowed up there. We were right up there, it was just where this big gray building, that was a barn, where they used to keep the horses. Well, some would stay up there, and some would be right here at the railroad crossing to keep…
PN: Right at Whipple here, you 're talking about?
AJ: Yea, right up here at Whipple, uh huh.
PN: That was for the Rock Lick mine?
AJ: No, this was the Whipple mines, and Loch—, some , Whipple mines and Carlisle.
LJ : And also the Loch—, the Lochgelly mine.
AJ: Uh huh.
PN: Cause he was working there then?
AJ: My husband was working at Whipple then. Then he left Whipple, and went to Lochgelly. And so I was picketting up here at Whipple for Lochgelly. But Mama and them picket ted over to Lochgelly. All the mines, the women was at the mines then, for those 53 days.
PN: Wow. So, so every, so all the different local unions…
AJ : That's right.
PN: Would have their Women 's Auxiliary
AJ: Uh huh, picket.
PN: Did you get to meet women from other towns and other mines too?
AJ : Oh we knew, you know, we mostly knew each other from Lochgelly, Summerlee, and some up here on the hill, and down to Carlisle. We all knew each other, and so we were just, you know, be together. But most of them would be the women from Whipple here, women from Carlisle up there, and the women from Carlisle and Whipple that was the only two mines that was working down this—a—away then.
PN: If the men had come on the picket line, what would have happened?
AJ: Well see that was a, the union would, the company would have got after them, you know, the company didn't allow the men up there.
PN: Could they have been put in jail or something for doing that?
AJ: I, yes, I'm sure they would have. But see, that's the reason the women went out, cause the men couldn't picket.
PN: What did the men do during that period? Did they stay at home?
AJ: Stay at home, cook, wash, iron, do the work.
PN: Did they enjoy that, or not?
AJ: Well we enjoyed on that picket line. We couldn't get up there fast enough. We was on shifts; it looked like our shift wouldn't come I [laughs] fast enough to get up there. And the day they told us, they said: "Well, the strike is over." Some of them said, “Well, we're glad they 're gone back to work, but we sure hate to leave off of this line.” And everything came by, every bus but the Coco—Cola. That's the reason I don't care for Coca—Cola now. Every bus, the bread truck, and everything that come by up there — they would give us something. Only the Coca—Cola Company, so now I don't like Coca— Cola. He never would; some of them, they'd put out as much, as many as a case, or a couple of cases of sodas. People from down in Montogmery could send doughnuts, coffee, and everything up there. And A. and P. and Kroger and all, they'd send groceries and things down there for us.
PN: They were just kind of donating it to the strike?
AJ: Don—, donated it to the strike, to the picket line.
PN: How many women used to be on the picket line?
AJ: About 25 of us, or 30, maybe more than that.
PN: And did you go.
AJ: In shifts.
PN: All around the clock? Or did you have two shifts? Or how did you work that?
AJ: We went around the clock.
PN: You did?
AJ: Yea.
PN: Twenty—four hours a day?
AJ: Yea, to keep them from going in the mines, cause see we going in the mines.
PN: But they wouldn't cross a picket line?
AJ: They wouldn't cross a picket line in the day time.
PN: That's interesting.
AJ: You know, we had a tent, even had a tent sitting up there. So if it rained, we could go inside. We had some would kind of want to buck, but we had the water on. We didn't take no stuff off of them. Just tell them: "No, you can't cross.”
PN: And they wouldn't?
AJ: No, they wouldn't. They wouldn't cross.
PN: What else, did you build little fires there? Or was the strike in the summer?
AJ: It was in the spring of the year. It was in the spring of, I don't, I can't remember whether it was in May, April or May, I can't remember when it was but, it's been so long. But it was warm.
PN: Did the women take over the picket line from the very beginning?
AJ: That's right. Yes they did. We would go up there and sit all day and all night and have a time. Sitting up there cooking, going on.
PN: Wow. What did you cook on. Did you build fires?
AJ: We had a friend now, she had a, Mrs. Pringle, she lived right across, the house right across the street. And we'd cook up there at her house most of the time. She would do the cooking, and bring it there. And then sometime, we'd have other food.
PN: After the strike was over, were the men happy to get back to work?
AJ: Yes they were, yes they were happy to get back. But they weren't going back until they got what they wanted. Yes sir.
PN: Do you have any memories of the strikes around 1921 and '22, when the union was broken in many areas?
AJ: No, I can't remember that. No, I don't remember about that.
PN: How long did the Ladies' Auxiliary last?
AJ: Well after the company, you know, began selling the houses, and people began scattering, it was, was no more mines around there, no mines. That's when it went out, after the mines blew out.
PN: What was this, in the fifties, you'd say?
AJ: Along in the forties, it was '42, around '42 around about '42, because the mines blew out in '42.
PN: But then there was no more Women's Auxiliary?
AJ: We had no more Auxiliary, cause see everybody went other places and got jobs, and so we didn't have any more.
PN: How many years did they last for, would you say?
AJ: Oh about five or six or seven years, along in there.
PN: But that was the '43 strike you were talking about though, that you were on the picket line for so many days?
AJ: Yes, mm, mm.
PN: During the war?
AJ: During, during the war, yes, mm.
PN: Was that the strike when the men finally got portal—to—portal pay?
AJ: Yes, that's when it was.
PN: That was the same one?
AJ: Uh huh, the same one, mm.
PN: What did they think about that? That was an important issue, wasn't it?
AJ: Yea, yes it was. Because they weren't getting it. See, they were just working them, and they wasn't getting it.
PN: So by that, say in '33 when the union was organized again, how many hours a day would your husband have to work?
AJ: Well he worked from dawn till dawn [meaning dawn till dusk] for $2.88 a day.
PN:This was in
AJ: Mm, 30 and '30 ' 30, ' 30, ' 31, and ' 33.
PN: Before the union came in?
AJ: Before the union, he didn't even know, the only time the children seen him was on Sunday morning. Him and their grandfather.
PN: Were the hours shorter for the men after the union came in?
AJ: Oh yes, oh yes, they put eight hours; they didn't, they didn't have to work but eight hours then.
PN: They couldn't make them stay for 12 hours then?
AJ: No, unless they got, you know, over [time] .
PN: And then in '43, the working day was made a little bit shorter?
AJ: Seven hours, mm.
PN: With portal—to—portal?
AJ: Mm.
PN: Maybe this is a hard question to answer. But were you happy that you lived in the coal towns for most of your life?
AJ: Yes, mm, yes, mm.
PN: If you had it to do all over again, would you do
AJ: I certainly would. I could go right, I wished I'd a stayed in Concho. Everybody wished they' d a stayed in Concho that left there. Everybody wished they'd a stayed out there. Mike told them: "Why don't you all just buy the houses?" And it would have been a paradise out there; it would have been beautiful. Cause you had, everybody had plenty of room, plenty of land, plenty [of] everything out there.
PN: So you had plenty of room to grow a garden there?
AJ: Garden, anything you want, anything, anything, lawn, garden, anything.
PN: Did many people plant flowers?
AJ: Oh, we had the beautifulest flowers ever was around there. An orchard, we had an orchard. And I think the trees has, just have gone bad since nobody's out there. There was plum trees, apple trees, peach trees, just any kind of fruit you want.
PN: The miners and their families planted this originally?
AJ: No, it was, the company planted this orchard.
PN: The company?
AJ: Uh huh, and then the people planted their own fruit trees. They planted their own fruit trees and things like that.
PN: Why did the company plant it, to sell in the store, or…
AJ: No, no, no, no, for the people to have.
PN: For the people to have?
AJ: Mm. For the people to have.
PN: When it came to, to planting flower seeds and growing flowers, did the, did the women take care of that mostly, or did the men?
AJ: Yea, the women. The men did work, women taken care of that.
PN: Did the women do most of the gardening of vegetables?
AJ: No, men did. Women just did a little bit, you know, just a little bit of gardening, you know.
PN: But when it came to taking, to raising the hogs and the cows and the chickens, did the men or the women do that mostly?
AJ: Well we both, both did that, nm. Cause the women feed them in the morning or [correcting herself] in the evening. And then the husband feed them, mostly the husband would feed them in the morning, because he would be up earlier. And then in the evening, the women would feed them.
PN: Then you had eggs and milk most of the year?
AJ: The year round.
PN: All year?
AJ: All year round.
PN: Some of the people I spoke to that lived in the gorge say there was such little land that they didn't have any room to raise cows or have too many animals.
AJ: Mm, there was a lot of places were like that.
PN: So a place like Concho was better in that respect?
AJ: Yea, yea, in that respect, yes it was. Plenty of gardens. Cause Mrs. Drake had almost a farm back up there where she lived. She lived back toward the mountain. And she had, oh, she had everything up there.
PN: Was Concho pretty flat, where it is?
AJ: Mm, [it was] flat. Some of the houses were up on the hill. Now let me see — one, two, three houses out where we lived were up on the hill. And the rest of it was just flat like.
PN: You could walk towards the edge of town and then look down over the, Thurmond?
AJ: That's up at the church, uh huh, now. Now I don't know what they've done; this man bought it, and they called theirself fixing a park out there. So now I don't know which way you could get to the church, you know, get to look over the mountain. But they say you can look over there now.
PN: When your husband worked in the mine, did, did he ever get Black Lung from that?
AJ: That's what he died from.
PN: Really?
AJ: That's right.
PN: When was that that he passed away?
AJ: 1972. And he started went to work in the mines when he was 12 years old.
PN: Wow. Here in West Virginia?
AJ: Yea, over to East Gulf.
PN: So he worked in the mines right around…
AJ: 42 years.
PN: In Raleigh and Fayette Counties?
AJ: Raleigh and, East Gulf's in Raleigh County, isn't it?
PN: Yes.
AJ: In Raleigh and Fayette County, yes, that's right.
And then he got Black Lung towards the end of his life?
AJ: Mm, that's right.
[End of Tape]
Oral History Project - Johns, Darcie 1980
Homemaker, Beury, Fire Creek, Central, Thurmond, Sewell, Beury Mansion
Note: Mrs. Johns asked that he name not be used in connection with the material in this interview. She felt some of it was controversial, and could lead to some legal action against her; specifically, she was concerned about her references to the Beury family. The interviewer, though, can see little danger of any of the material in this interview creating any such controversy.
PN: OK, just to start off, maybe you could mention what date you were born on and what town you were born in, if that's OK.
DJ: [laughs] Well, I don't know. Just so you don't have my name, that's OK. [laughs]
PN: Were you born in Beury?
DJ: Beury, uh huh.
PN: What year were you born?
DJ: 1901.
PN: 1901?
DJ: Mm.
PN: What did your father do for a job?
DJ: He was a, I believe, he was a, prospected for coal for the Beurys, for the Beury brothers, you know, the people that run the place the name was pla-, named for. But he died before I was born. I mean, you don't have [laughs].
PN: How did he get that job? Did he…
DJ: He and my mother came from Ohio when they were young, and settled out there. You know, they was bringing men in from all around everywhere to work these new coal mines. And they came to Beury. I don't know how come, but they did. And they settled on the mountain. And so then later on, we moved away from there. And then we moved right back again. But we moved to the town down at the bottom; up at the top of the mountain was a town, and then there was one at the bottom. And that's where the store was, and a church, and the mansion.
PN: What was the town at the top of the mountain called?
DJ: It was Beury Mountain, that's all. And they was quite a few, it was quite a few town, of a town, and my mother told me it was good size. And they had a church there, and a schoolhouse for the colored, and the white. But the main business was down at the bottom right where I lived.
PN: You said there was a schoolhouse on top?
DJ: Mm.
PN: On top of the mountain too?
DJ: Yes, mm. But where I went to school was Central. And that was just below Beury. Central was a coal camp too. And we lived in one of the Central houses later on. But still it was called Beury.
PN: Central was up towards Fire Creek and Sewell?
DJ: Yes, yes, uh huh. Fire Creek was just about half a mile. And then when we were, lived there in front of the store, there was a, a bottling house and a saloon and I don't know what all. And they bottled beer there.
PN: Really?
DJ: Mm. And the man that ran it had a big, big fine home there just across the creek from Beury, where the Beurys was. Big yellow home there and he was the one that owned that.
PN: Did he make beer there?
DJ: No, he just bottled it and shipped it out or sold it, un huh, yea. And at that time we went back there when I was nine years old there was a, oh, all of the people there nearly were Irish.
PN: In Beury?
DJ: Un huh. Most of them was Irish and the people from Hinton came down to the church there because it was a Catholic church. All the way from Hinton. Train stopped on Sunday mornings for them, they got off. And probably all along the road, I don't know. And then, they'd catch the train and go back. That was when we first moved there.
PN: There was a Catholic church then in Beury?
DJ : Mm.
PN: Was that one of the few Catholic churches in the whole area?
DJ : Oh, I never heard of one around anywhere, except up here at Scarbro.
PN: Was the priest Irish? Were most of the…?
DJ: Well, I suppose, because we didn't go, you know. And later on then it was turned into a Protestant church, after the Beurys moved.
PN; Was Beury a coal town…
DJ: Yes.
PN: Before the Beurys came in?
DJ: The one main thing, the Beurys opened the mine up theirselves.
PN: They did?
DJ: Uh huh, yea. And then there was another Beury his brother. Well, old man — they called him Colonel Joe Beury and he opened up that one. And then his brother opened one up at Claremont. Now I don't know what they called that.
PN: I was wondering if I could just ask you some questions about the town itself. First, could you describe just what the Beury mansions looked like — the two different mansions?
DJ: Yes. Well, it had 23 rooms, and they had at one time, my mother told me that they had dances up there, and people come from everywhere. They had a beautiful flower, I don't know what you call them, you know, what do they call the flowers? Flower house, anyway.
PN: Oh, oh.
DJ: And they just…
PN: What, a greenhouse?
DJ: Yes, a greenhouse, that's what it was. And then, I’ll tell you about the, Mrs. Beury. Mr. Beury died pretty soon after my father did — Colonel Joe Beury, the man that opened the mines up.
PN: Was that Joseph Lawton Beury?
DJ: Yea, I guess so. That's what my father and my mother said, called him "Colonel Joe" and everybody else did. And then he died after — he came to my father's funeral but he died after my father. And so she used to take as many ad fif - well, maybe I oughtn't tell this.
PN: Well, that's OK.
DJ: Fifteen suitcases on that train, and she'd go to New York and bring them back full.
PN: Wow.
DJ: So the mansion was just a beautiful thing. As you entered the front, there was the most beautiful stairway you ever saw, just, you know, went around like that and upstairs. And all those private rooms up there for the children. And they had a swimming pool in the back. And up on the hill, they had a stable for all their horses and cows and things like that. And then his son built 17—room, right across the creek from him, and raised their family. [The creek being referred to is Fire Creek.]
PN: What was his son's name?
DJ: Well, I believe there's just one or two living now. Now, Mrs. Pugh could tell you, because he comes in to, down there every once in a while and talks to them. One of them's living — Harry.
PN: What was the son's name who built the other mansion?
DJ: Um, Bert.
PN: Bert?
DJ: Bert Beury.
PN: What did that look like? Was that built the same way?
DJ: Oh no. This other one had, oh I don't know how many different little rooms that she stored all of her hats in, somebody said; I don't know. But anyway, ho, his was built more up higher, you know, stories than this one. So they raised their family there, and then they went to Charleston.
PN: You know, when you were growing up, you must remember back in the teens and the twenties in Beury?
DJ: Mm.
PN: How many homes were there in Beury at that time?
DJ: Well, I wouldn't know unless, I couldn't hardly count them, I don't suppose.
PN: Well, were there as many as a hundred?
DJ: Oh no, not the bottom. And I don't know how many was on the mountain either.
PN: Would there be 50, do you think?
DJ: At the bottom?
PN: Yea
DJ: Yea, I imagine, mm. The colored people lived in the upper end, and
the white down at the other end.
PN: And Central?
DJ: Central was just a…
PN: Was part of Beury, or
DJ: No, it was, I believe now, I can't remember, I believe it was called Echo.
PN: Echo?
DJ: Uh huh. But it was Central; they called it Central. And there was a store and a office and I don't know what all there. But that was before my time.
PN: Was that a separate mine?
DJ: Uh huh .
PN: It was?
DJ: Sure. It had a tipple came down just like Beury did.
PN: You lived in Central part…
DJ: We moved in right in front of the Beury store first. And then it was so, no place to get out or anything, you know, no yard or anything cause it's right next to the railroad. We went, we moved to Central. And then the old store, but that was all gone, you know; my mother could remember it, but I couldn't.
PN: So just people living, you know, when you were growing up, the people then in Central were just people living there and/ they worked at Beury?
DJ: Yea, mrn, mm. Or else they worked at Fire Creek, one or the other. The three places, let's see, yea, three, were real close together. And that's the way it is all down the river. I could tell you a whole lot about those places that used to be along there. You don't see then any more, hear tell of them, but I remember.
PN: Where, how many people worked in the mine at Beury? Do you have any idea?
DJ: No. My brother would know because he worked in there. And my step—father and my other brother they worked, he'll know. That's why I told him, he'll know more to tell you than I do. [Her brother is C. D. McClasky, also of Oak Hill.]
PN: In Beury, did they, in addition to the Catholic church, did they have other churches there too?
DJ: No. And the Beurys, I don't think, were Catholics. I don't know how come. And the Masonic building was there.
PN: It was?
DJ: That later moved to Thurmond. And there was another, um, I’ve forgotten what that one, there was two of them there. But I don't know if it was a Redman or not. Two of them.
PN: There were two lodges?
DJ: Uh huh, right side by side. The Masonic building was a huge building.
PN: When did they move? Or when did they close down?
DJ: Um, it seems to me, you know after I got away I don't remember too well, but it seemed to me like they burned, but I’m not sure.
PN: You were saying that both the Masonic lodge and the Redman lodge burned?
DJ: I believe it was the Redmen, because my father belonged to Redmen. And I never did remember my mother saying, but I saw it. I saw it, it had gone down, you know; no one wasn't there. And so, not after I got any size, I don't remember anything. But I do remember the Masons' meeting. And they moved to Oak Hill, I mean to Thurmond. And then they moved to, I'll cut that off, if you want me to. It bothers you, doesn't it? [Referring to the forced air heaters in her house.]
PN: It'll probably be OK.
DJ: So finally, from Thurmond, it broke up and we belong up here now. I belong to Eastern Star.
PN: Who would belong to the Masons in Beury or Thurmond? Were they mostly miners ?
DJ: Uh huh, railroad men.
PN: Railroad men?
DJ: Mm.
PN: Were miners also?
DJ: Yea, some of them. My husband was a railroad man.
PN: Were the Beurys and people like that, would they be members of the Masons also?
DJ: I don't know. See, I was so young when that mine shut down. I don 't remember too much. I just know, you know, what I saw all the time. But I, I like to correct people when I know what I tm talking about. [laughs]
PN: What was the year that the mine at Beury closed?
DJ: Well you know, I wouldn't know. My brother, he can tell you. And I’ll tell you other things he can tell you. They turned the water loose there at Beury. My brother, my two brothers, and my step—father — somebody else told it was somebody else but it was my step—father and brothers, and it tore the railroad track all out.
PN: It did?
DJ : You might remind him of that. He could tell you everything about it.
PN: What did that have to do, though, with the water? Was that damming up the creek there or something?
DJ: It was dangerous.
PN: Oh.
DJ: No, it was in the mines. And it was sort of, you know, dammed—up like, and they knew sometime it would happen. And it might tear the railroad track out and they wouldn't know it; somebody'd, you know, wreck; or train'd wreck or some thing. So he called 'em, and talked to 'em, and told 'em; and whenever they got ready to turn it loose, they would, he would call them and tell them.
PN: That was the water in the mine?
DJ: Uh huh, in the mines. So he called them, and they held all the trains back. And it come down out of there with such force, It threw that railroad track out in the river.
PN: Wow, so they had to build that again?
DJ: Yea. And the old mines, I guess, shut down about that time, but I don't know when it was.
PN: You said you were born in nineteen…
DJ: One.
PN: O—one in Beury?
DJ: Mm.
PN: And how long did you live in Beury until you moved out of Beury?
DJ: Well I was born on the mountain, and my father died the same day I was born. You don't have to put that in there. [laughs] And then my mother and step—father moved back again when I was nine. And we lived the rest of our life there.
PN: In Beury?
DJ: Uh huh. And my mother then later on moved to Oak Hill, she lived right up here. And my two sisters, they taught school all up and down New River and Fayette County.
PN: And you said that you yourself worked in a drugstore in Thurmond at one point?
DJ: Uh huh, yea. I worked in the store when I was 18, right there at Beury - where that old colored lady's living.
PN: Oh yea?
DJ: Mm.
PN: That was the company store?
DJ: Yea. Beurys owned it. They owned everything around there. It was a big store, and it was going down pretty much, though, when I worked in there; there wasn't much business then.
PN: So you started working in that store when you were 18 years old?
DJ: About 18, uh huh.
PN: How long did you work there?
DJ: Not too long, cause it closed. The mines shut down; I didn't work in there long. And there used, now when the war was going on – 1917 I was young but I remember that. Beury Mountain was just doing real well; they was business going on, you know. There wasn't any store or anything like that; but, you see they needed coal then, and all those places opened up all around there at that time. And they had what they called a "dinky”. Did you know what a dinky is? It's just a little tiny engine. It hauled that coal all around that mountain. And all around that railroad track was little houses.
PN: This is on Beury Mountain?
PN: And that was a separate mine from the Beury mine?
DJ: No, same mine, mm, yea; it was 1917.
PN: But after the war, then the mine…
DJ: Went down, uh huh.
PN: And never really came up again?
DJ: That’s right, uh huh. There's not anything out there now — a few houses, but they're all run down.
PN: I was wondering if you could talk a little bit about the band that you mentioned.
DJ: The what?
PN: The band that played.
DJ: Well, see I don't know too much about that. But, well, I was young, of course, and then the mines went out of business, we didn't have it any more. But every Saturday night, they called him Captain Joe Beury too — Colonel Joe and his wife Julia, she dressed like a queen, oh my; and every Saturday night they had this band. The men that worked in the mines, they had this band. And she had them to come down off the mountain every Saturday night, and go up and down the sidewalk and play music, and up in her lot — great big yard, you know. They'd go up there and play for her. And of course we lived right in front of the store, so we got to see it all. [laughs] That was something for us.
PN: Was it made up of the miners though?
DJ: Uh huh, mm, colored and white. I remember so well those great big horns they used, yea. And then they made their power with a power house, they called it. We didn't, they didn't have Appalachian then, you know. And so at 11 0'clock, you had to be in bed, unless you wanted to stay up in the dark or with oil lamp, because they went off at 11.
PN: They did?
DJ: Mm, yea.
PN: How was the power plant fired, with coal?
DJ: Well I suppose so. It was way up there, almost, well it's way up there towards Thurmond, the power house was. And that's where we got our electricity. Everybody tried to get in bed before 11 0'clock. [laughs]
PN: When did it come back on in the morning?
DJ: Seemed to me it was about six, or something like that. See they were saving!
PN: Let me just ask you about the band again. How many people were in that band?
DJ: Well, let me see, I wouldn't know exactly. There might have been 15 or 20, but I wouldn't remember.
PN: What did they, what types of instruments did they play?
DJ: I can only remember this great big horn. But they undoubtedly had other things. Cause I was young, you know, and I can't remember too well.
PN: Was It mainly a brass band?
DJ: Uh huh, yea.
PN: Did they have drums and things too?
DJ: I think so. There was, you know, several colored families lived up on the mountain and down at the bottom too. It was quite a town up there before my time, my mother told me, when my father was living.
PN: When you lived in the area, you said that the largest group was Irish?
When you were growing up?
DJ: Yea, but they were down, down, just down the road a little ways from us. They lived in Central at the time. And the Beury brothers, a Beury, Colonel Joe Beury when he opened up the mines, and he built with stone right out of the mountains. He built all these walls. And you see, it was just a mountain—side like. And he had all those, oh, rock made into high walls. If you ever go down there, you'll see high walls held all this hillside back, you know. And it was native stone that he built that with. Well that, it went from way up this way towards the store, past the store, and it also kept the dirt from coming down on the railroad, you see. And then when they did that, they level led that all off and built the store there. And then his mansion was up on top of the little bank like. And then that wall went all the way down, past the creek I don't guess it had any name, I don't know that it did and then when it ended down there, that big high wall? Well then Chapman - Chapman owned the saloon and the bottling—house — well his big mansion was over on the river side, beautiful thing.
PN: What did his mansion look like?
DJ: Oh, it was beautiful; I never was in it. But it was beautiful.
PN: Was it made out of stone?
DJ: No, no. It had a porch that went all the way around it. It's down on the ground part, in a big block there. I don’t know where they went when they left; but everything got bad, you know, and they just left an old house built. And it was there for a long time, and then it, I don't know what happened to it. Beautiful home. My brother used to take pictures of things like that.
PN: Where did Mr. Chapman get the beer from that he put into bottles?
DJ: I don't know.
PN: Did it come in…
DJ: I guess it, I imagine now, because 1 don't remember too well, but I, we lived right in front of the store. And they had to bring this up to ship it away. And something they shipped away, I don't know what it was, it was in cartons. And so maybe they got whatever they made their beer out of the same way. I don't remember.
PN: Would it probably come in…
DJ: On the train.
PN: Big kegs of beer would come in on the train?
DJ: Oh yes. And sometimes barrels of oysters in the shell.
PN: Really?
DJ: Yea. And one time they spilled out right in our yard. And so instead of the men picking them all up, they gave them to my brothers. I remember them eating those. [laughs] Shells.
PN: Who did the barrels of oysters come in for? For the Beurys, or did they sell them in the company store?
DJ: No, they went to the, down to the saloon or bottling house, somewhere down there. It belonged to them.
PN: So they would sell…?
DJ: I guess.
PN: Oysters in the saloon?
DJ: Maybe. I don't know what they did with them. But one time the train was awfully late, and the men brought all these boxes, you know, to be shipped out. I don't know, it looked like may—, I don't know what it was, but it could have been liquor, I don't know. But they didn't make liquor there. So I don't know where they got it. But anyway, one night, it was, the train got real late that it was going to be shipped out on. They had all that sidewalk piled up with something in those cartons, you know. And they asked my mother if they could put it inside of our house until the next day, or whenever the train ran, if they found out, you know. And I never will forget all that stuff being brought in there. We had a big, wide hall, and they put it all there over night. I wish I could draw a picture of just how I grew up and saw all these things. I’d just love to, but I can't draw.
PN: Did the man who bottled the beer, did he sell most of that beer along the New River Gorge? Or was that shipped out to further away?
DJ: Well, I would think he shipped out more, uh huh. Of course, there was a lot of those Irish people, they all liked to drink, you know. [laughs]
PN: Would they drink mostly beer or…?
DJ: Yea, I think it was, I think it was beer. But they had a saloon there too; they sold whiskey all right.
PN: They did?
DJ: Uh huh, yea.
PN: Where did the whiskey come from? Did people make it?
DJ: I don't know. I don't know where it come from. I’ve often wondered. And they had a ice house, great big ice house to keep ice in. And the carloads of ice come in, and they'd put it in their cellars there, or ice house.
PN: The people would?
DJ: No, the Chapmans.
PN: The saloon?
DJ: Uh huh.
PN: What other types of buildings were there in the town? Were there schools and…
DJ: In Beury?
PN: Yea.
DJ: They, most all of them was two—storey for the miners and, you know, whoever worked around there. They were two—storey.
PN: Would there be one family to a house?
DJ: In my time. But my mother told me they were built for two families, because there was two stairways, at one time.
PN:But when you were growing up, there would• be generally one
DJ: Just one, uh huh. We moved in one that just had a, you know, was for two. But we had one of them taken out.
PN: Nov many rooms would be in a house like that?
DJ: Six and two good—sized attics.
PN: What would you use the different rooms for when you lived there?
DJ: Well, there was quite a few of us at home, and bedrooms, but we had living room, dining room, kitchen downstairs, and one bedroom.
PN: Downstairs?
DJ: Uh huh.
PN: And two attics?
DJ: And two, two bedrooms upstairs and two attics.
PN: Were the attics above the bedrooms?
DJ: No, they just built on the back end, uh huh.
PN: Where did you buy, or get, most of your food?
DJ: Right there at Beury's store. Then when Beury, Beury went down before Fire Creek. Then we had to go to Fire Creek to get our groceries. And that was just a little ways, it was just like, you know, being at Beury, because we were so close. And so we, that's where we went to church and that's where we bought our groceries. And finally, it went out of business later than, I mean, later than Beury did. And so we met an awful lot of nice people, you know, by staying there. The Kincaids was, he was the store manager, John Kincaid. And I don't remember all of them that was there. But every— thing, they had a beautiful brick store; it was beautiful. Ours was made out of rock right out of the mountains.
PN: The store?
DJ: Yea, our store was at Beury. But Fire Creek was a beautiful brick. And that's where all the people close around bought their caskets. Because they had a place upstairs to, for people when they bought, someone died.
PN: Fire Creek?
DJ: Uh huh, yea. People off of Beury Mountain, Beury, and all went down there to get their caskets.
PN: Did many people have gardens?
DJ: Every one of them.
PN: Where did they grow them? Right near their houses, or up the river?
DJ: Well, no. Usually below their house, and then there was enough land for everybody to have, it run out the sides too, not just towards the river. Yea, everybody had a garden.
PN: Did people keep hogs or other animals?
DJ: yea, they had cows. Right across from where these houses were, there was a stable. On the opposite side was where the two, the Masonic and the other Redman's I think that's what it was —— because my father belonged to.
But right across from there then, later on, you see all this went out of business. People had cows, and they had chickens, and hogs all on the other side, you know, next to the. . And then there was coke ovens down below us.
PN: In Beury?
DJ: Uh huh. But they belonged to Central, down that way was Central. Up this way, Beury had them too.
PN: Towards Thurmond?
DJ: Uh huh, yea. But I never saw them burn, or at Fire Creek either.
PN: Who owned the coke ovens toward Central and Fire Creek? Did Beury own them also?
DJ: No. I don't know who, I have no idea who owned those, that mines at Fire Creek.
PN: In the teens and early twenties, when you were a young woman, what did you usually do for recreation or entertainment?
DJ: We'd go down there in the summertime and play our croquet and tennis. They was a big tennis court in the back of the store.
PN: Oh really?
DJ: And all our friends were there, you know. And we'd go down there and play. And then, we had kind of, pie suppers and church suppers and things like that. That's about it, yea.
PN: Did you have radios back then?
DJ: No, we didn't have radios till, I guess, my sister bought the first one, I don't know when that would be, it must have been about, maybe '30, 1930.
PN: Did you ever go to Thurmond for any type of entertainment? Or did you usually stay in Beury?
DJ: I never, my brother used to take us up there to a movie on Saturday night once in a while. But that's all I knew about it, unless my mother' d take me shopping, you know. But I did see it booming pretty much, because I was working In the grocery store. And I know the druggist told me one day, he said, "If the railroad keeps on like it is," he said that "We're going to have to close, or something's going to take place. " And sure enough, it did. And see, the railroads went down; well then that left Thurmond dead, because it was a railroad town.
PN: When did that begin going down?
DJ: I guess, it must have been about 1922; I t m not sure, I believe that's about when it started
PN: It started going down?
DJ: Uh huh. Yea, but before my time, it was something. I know you 've read about that.
PN: When did you work in the drugstore at Thurmond?
DJ: About '22 or three, uh huh.
PN: What did you sell there, just like drugs for people who were sick?
DJ: No, we had a ice cream parlor too. I think they're coming back.
PN: Before, you mentioned that, I think, the Beurys used to invite people and had dances?
DJ: Mm. But not people around there. They come some—, from somewhere else on the train. Cause there's no way, never has been any way to, to, down in that part of the gorge that cars could get. They had to go on train back, you know at one time there was about 14 trains ran up and down there. Some of them was fast, and some of them was, you know, local. But most any time you wanted to go and come back, you could.
PN: But if the Beurys would have a party, though, they would have people from the outside?
DJ: Somewhere, I don't know where they come from, but not right at Beury.
PN: Cause they wouldn't usually…
DJ: They didn't mingle with, like I said, we lived on the wrong side of the tracks.
PN: That's what I was going to ask. And you said your father was a miner?
DJ: Uh huh.
PN: When he died, was he hurt in a mining accident?
DJ: No, he had appendicitis and died. Doctors then was plentiful, but sometimes they wouldn't come, you know.
PN: And your husband worked on the railroad?
DJ: Mm, as a fireman.
PN: When did you get married?
DJ: Nineteen and twenty—, twenty—what, twenty, twenty—six, twenty—five, twenty—five, twenty—six.
PN: Your husband lived in Beury too?
DJ: No, he lived in Thurmond where, it was a railroad town, you know.
PN: And you moved down to Thurmond at that time?
DJ : Mm, yea, uh huh.
PN: Where did he come from? Did he grow up in the gorge too?
DJ: No, he came from way over in Virginia .
PN: Oh yea.
DJ: Over next to Danville, Charlotte County.
PN: Right near North Carolina?
DJ: Yea, yea.
PN: Why did he come up to Thurmond? Because he wanted to work on the railroad?
DJ: He left the farm, left the farm, mm. He, somebody, he had a friend over here around Beckley. And they got him over here to work in the mines and he, he went in there, and he wouldn't stay. He was afraid. So then he got on the railroad.
PN: When you moved to Thurmond, after you got married, in 1926…
DJ: We went from Thurmond to Hinton. We lived there a while.
PN: Oh really?
DJ: Mm. He was changed from one place to another, you know, like I guess you know they called it “kicking them off”. And everywhere he'd go, he was kicked off. So we really had it rough when the Depression come too.
PN: Were you living down at Hinton by that time?
DJ: No, we were down at Beury at the time then. We went back to Beury — he and I did — where I had lived, uh huh.
PN: I was just going to ask you that. Was Beury kind of going down at that time?
DJ: Yes, it was in terrible shape. The old mansion was already, people began to tear it up.
PN: Even by 1929?
DJ: Yea, around, yea, yea, they took all kind of things out of there. And it was a beautiful place. Wouldn't It have been wonderful if they could have kept that? It was so pretty.
PN: Was the old mansion made out of wood, or was that built…
DJ: Yea, it was all wood, uh huh. It's a wonder they hadn't made it out of stone, isn't it? They made all the rest of the things out of stone. They had a, the store was, they had two main offices and then this big store all together, built together. And then on the end of the store, they had a wareroom. And up over their store was living quarters. And the manager lived up there — the store manager.
PN: The store manager?
DJ: Uh huh. And then they had some small offices, and I don't remember where the clerks and people stayed. I don't remember. And then they, besides that, they had a big warehouse for furniture. And it was wood. And they had the most beautiful roads you 've ever seen in your life to not be hard—surfaced, going up that mountain on to the top.
PN: Really?
DJ: Uh huh. They had a wagon that took groceries up there to the people twice a month, like a barrel of flour. [laughs] It sounds funny now. And they'd take the groceries out there to them. And they kept the, the Beurys kept the, I mean Colonel Joe Beury, he kept Hungarians, Italians, and people like that on that road all the time. And it was just as smooth and nice as it could be — big wide road.
PN: People like Hungarians and Italians were hired by him to…?
DJ: Build those roads, put in drains, and everything.
PN: Did they work in the mines too, or just do that?
DJ: No, that's all they did. That was their job. That place was just built up there at the bottom where the mansion was mainly out of the stone right out of the mountain. But I don't know why they didn't build their homes that way. 1 have no idea.
PN: Were many immigrants from Europe working in the mines at Beury at the time?
DJ: Not too many. I know there was one Frenchman. Well, there was a French, an English, ahd a German I know of. But I don't know, I don't remember.
PN: In the Catholic church that was located in Beury…
DJ: It was right on the hill above, above the mansion.
PN: It was?
DJ: Uh huh.
PN: Was that made out of stone, or was that wood?
DJ: No, it was wood, uh huh. But all the, on that side, like you 're going west, all that all along there, business along there, was native rock. And then the store and office and all was rock.
PN: Did some of the Hungarians and Italians go to that Catholic church also?
DJ: I don't know, cause I was too young at the time. I don't remember, but I can remember seeing them get off the train, you know. And that, Mrs. Beury and everybody called her Mrs. Julia after he was gone — she could stop a fast train any time she wanted to. She'd just have a train stopped. Nobody else could.
PN: Really?
DJ: Nope. [laughs ]
PN: How did she do that? Did she call down to Thurmond or something?
DJ: Uh huh. She'd call and have a train stopped.
PN: It would stop right there at Beury?
DJ: Yes sir. And there was a old man that was a friend of theirs that, when she went — maybe you better cut this out — she would, he would go along, and she wore these long dresses, you know, with the trails. And he would hold that up, so it wouldn't get dirty.
PN: Really?
DJ: Mm. She had little shoes with little heels about like that. [indicating about two inches with her fingers]
PN: That was a friend of hers after her husband died?
DJ: No, it was a friend in the home all the time. He stayed there most of the time, old fellow. But I 've seen that train stop many a time. [laughs]
PN: Did she spend, or what did they stop the train for?
DJ: What?
PN: Why would she stop the train?
DJ: She was going to New York.
PN: Oh, she was going to New York.
DJ: Uh huh, yea. And that's where she did her shopping, you know. [laughs]
PN: Did she spend a lot of her time away from Beury?
DJ: Quite a bit, mm. And then, you see her son built right across from her. And his wife stayed in right much. They had riding horses there, and they went riding every morning nearly.
PN: They did?
DJ: Uh huh. See, they could go up that wagon road as far as they wanted to. Then there was a road that went all the way up the town there on, at the bottom. There was houses all up that way, and you could go all the way on that road — just a plain road, but it was kept, you know, real.Cars could run on it easy today; I mean, if it was there. And they'd ride all up there next to the coal tipple and back Mr. Beury and his wife.
PN: Did the Beurys ever go fishing, or anything like that, in the area?
DJ: Not that I know of.
PN: Did many of the miners or railroad workers go fishing?
DJ: My brothers fished all the time.
PN: Right in the New River, or in the streams too?
DJ: Yea, right in New River. Yea, my brother caught one, one time this is not a fish tale — it wouldn't stretch out in a Number Three tub, you know, wash tub. And my mother cooked that thing, and it never did get done.
PN: What kind of fish was that?
DJ: We didn't know. Nobody seemed to know. And I forgot how many pounds it was.
PN: It wasn't a catfish or anything?
DJ: No. Then he, then he went towards the tipple one time and set a line up there. And the river was rising, and he told Mama that he'd believe he'd go and look, because when the river comes up usually the fish bite. And so he went out, and the river was high. And she was worried about him. So she called my other brother, and she said, he said, she said, "Would you go and look about him?" That's the one that lives here in Oak Hill. “Because he hasn't come back and the water's so high." He went up there, and here was my brother, he never, he wasn't very tall, but you know. He had that fish, dragging it on his shoulder and its tail was dragging on the ground. Another great big one.
PN: Another one?
DJ: Uh huh.
PN: What kind was that, do you know?
DJ: I think it was a blue cat.
PN: A blue cat?
DJ: I don't know; I'm not sure.
PN: What kind of fish did he usually catch?
DJ: Yud cats and blue cats, most all the time. They're good fish.
PN: Did the people around there fish a lot? Was that an important part of their diet, would you say?
DJ: They just fished for fun or to pass away the time, I guess.
PN: But people would always eat them when you caught them?
DJ: Yea, they ate them, uh huh. They still fish down at Thurmond like that a good bit.
PN: Did the women often make their own clothing, or did they usually buy
DJ: Well, my mother sewed, but I believe they mostly bought it around these stores. And you had mentioned Sewell. We moved there after my children was good—sized.
PN: Oh really?
DJ: Yea, they went to, rode the train to college down at Montgomery. And this lady, she can't, she couldn't talk to you much now, but she told me all the most things that happened there because she's a whole lot older than me. But I went there later, you know, and I didn't know much about any what was going on there. But Manns Creek was right close by.
PN: What year did you move to Sewell?
DJ: It must have been about 1940, I guess, it must have been.
PN: When you lived at Thurmond, after you got married, how would you spend most of your time during the day?
DJ: Working in the house. [laughs] Keeping house, cause my husband was, you know, part of the time he didn't have regular hours. Some time he was on the 11 0'clock yard; sometimes he went at seven. And that's railroad life, you know. But there wasn't really anywhere to go at that time. Not too much. Well, there never was much at Thurmond to go to. My mother lived up here [in Oak Hill]; we'd come up here sometimes, but usually I just stayed home.
PN: Let me just ask you a couple of questions about these lodges that were in Beury. What would, you said your father was a member of the Red—men?
DJ: I think so.
PN: Do you know much about them and what they did?
DJ: No. I don't because, when I remember it, everything was going down.
PN: For the Redmen?
DJ: And there wasn't even one there. The building was there. And my mother said then that they had dances in there later. I don't know.
PN: How about the Masonic lodge? What types of activities would they offer for people in the community there?
DJ: 1 don't know that anybody, I don 't know of anybody, people come from somewhere else all the time. But I don't know what was going on, of course.
PN: Really?
DJ: Yes. They come in on the train. And the people from Thurmond that was Masonics, Masons, they would come down on the train, and sometimes walk back because usually their meetings are so late, you know. And they'd walk back.
PN: From Thurmond to Beury?
DJ: No, Beury to Thurmond.
PN: Beury to Thurmond?
DJ: Uh huh. Because there was a lot of men, you know, up there especially railroad men were Masons. And that's the way they had of getting around.
PN: Did they have separate lodges for some of the Black people? Or how did that work?
DJ: I never heard of any then, but there is now. I mean, they have their own, don't they?
PN: Yea.
DJ: But then, there weren't any.
PN: Is there anything else you think is particularly important to mention?
DJ: Well, I imagine there'd be a lot, but I can't think right off. I tried, got some books and things, and I thought, well, I can tell you some of those after a while maybe.
PN: Did many people drink, drink moonshine? Was it easy to get moonshine back in the twenties?
DJ: Well, let me see. [laughs] I imagine that was about the time they was bootlegging moonshine, wasn't it? I don't remember just what time it was, but I know people were hard up. And they moonshined all around, back on the mountain, hillside from where we lived — you'd see smoke, you know!
PN: Oh yea?
DJ: Yea.
PN: But nobody really bothered them much? The law didn't usually come?
DJ: Yea, they did.
PN: They did?
DJ: Uh huh. One man, I heard them say that he made some, and he heard these officials were coming. So he had a hole cut in the living—room floor, and something over it. And he hid it down there. But they found it anyway. [laughs]
PN: Were most of the moonshiners white? Or were they Black? Or both?
DJ: Oh, both. White, yea, I believe there was more white than there was Black.
PN: Really?
DJ: Yea.
PN: What did they make it out of corn primarily?
DJ: Let's see, what did, it ferments, they put corn in it and something, I don't know. That wasn't allowed around my home. But they called it mash, didn't they?
PN: Yea, yea.
DJ: I heard of them feeding it to the hogs and making 'em drunk.
PN: What did the hogs do when they…
DJ: Got drunk?
PN: Yea.
DJ: I don't know. Act like a man does, I guess. [laughs] I don't know. Yea, there was a lot of bootleggers and moonshiners around then. There was what they called bootleggers and they'd go, catch a train and go to Catlettsburg and bring it back and sell it.
PN: Oh they would?
DJ: Yea.
PN: Down in Virginia?
DJ: No, they'd go from Beury down to Catlettsburg and get a load of liquor, then bring it back and sell it. And they made a big profit on it, you know.
That was called bootleggers.
PN: Where was Catlettsburg?
DJ: Kentucky.
PN: Kentucky?
DJ: Uh huh, uh huh. [Catlettsburg is in northeastern Kentucky, between Ashland and Huntington.] That's what they used to do.
PN: Did any of the towns have baseball teams?
DJ: On Beury Mountain before I was born, they had a big one up there .
PN: They did?
DJ: Uh huh. And you know today, we went up there a couple of years ago, and my son—in—law hadn't seen anything up there. He comes from Virginia, so he didn't know anything about it, so we went up there. And I showed him where my mother lived at one time. Of course, we left there when I was so young, I was about four; and we left there and went to Stone Cliff. And then to Beury. And so I said, "I want to show you something." I said, "Right where you see that great big tree is where my mother said her house was." And I said, "This field down here, that's strange, but a field never hardly grows up after it's been stomped playing ball. Did you know that?” I know two or three places like that. And they had a big team there. And they also had a nice team in, in 1917 and 18.
PN: On Beury Mountain?
DJ: Uh huh. And it's still stomped down, you know, but it's a large place. And I remember when the war was going on, the boys played there. Good—sized.
PN: Was it mostly white people on the team, or both?
DJ: Yea, mostly, mostly white.
PN: Did the Blacks have a separate team?
DJ: I don't know; I don't remember. I know they had their lodge meetings together, and they played in the band, but I don't know.
PN: What kind of a lodge was that, that they were meeting together in?
DJ: It was the union.
PN: The union?
DJ: The union, uh huh. They'd all get together and have their union meetings, you know. They all got along fine, nobody, just wonderful.
PN: What percentage of the town was white, and what percentage was Black?
Do you have any estimate?
DJ: I would say that, white percentage would be more, mm.
PN: What would it be exactly, do you have any idea?
DJ: No, I wouldn't. And at Fire Creek they had, after I grew up the Central school's where I went to school. It was just about, oh, about a half, a quarter of a mile from our house.
[End of Tape]
Oral History Project - Jones, James 1980
African American , coal miner, Nuttall 1917 - 1950's, race relations in the mining camps
PN: To start off, maybe you could mention where you were born and what date you were born.
JJ: I was born at Nuttall, 1901.
PN: What did your father do?
JJ: He was a coal digger; he dug coal when they had mules in the mines. He dug coal and load it, you know, in the bank cars at old Nuttall mines.
PN: Was your father a miner for his whole life?
JJ: Yes, yes.
PN: When did your father first come to Nuttall.
JJ: He moved from Buckingham County, Virginia. Now I guess, let's see, I don't know exactly what year, because he moved from Buckingham County Virginia to Nuttall, and that's when he started in the mine. I don't know exactly what year it was, but I was born there.
PM: Did your father meet your mother when he moved to West Virginia?
JJ: No, he married in Buckingham County, Virginia.
PN: And they both moved up here together then?
JJ: Yes.
PN: And when did you start working in the mines?
JJ: I started in 1915.
PN: What, when you were 14 years old?
JJ: Yea, trapping, trapping in the mines.
PN: And how many years did you end up working in the mines yourself?
JJ: Altogether from the beginning until, up until the present time when I retired, I worked in the mines 41 years. That's a long time, isn't it? [laughs] I worked right in the coal mines 41 years.
PN: Did you work in Nuttall that whole time?
JJ: Well, I worked at Kaymoor [about] five months. That's when Nuttall wasn't working, you see; they had shut down, you know, for probably some repair, you know, doing some repair work.
PN: What was the year that you finally retired?
JJ: I retired in 19 and, let's see, 1959, I believe. Yes, I believe that is the year.
PN: Were you still working in Nuttall mine at that time?
JJ: No, I, when I retired, I was working, I worked three years on the State Roads. Then I left the State Roads, then I retired.
PN: What was the last year that you worked at Nuttall?
JJ: 1959.
PN: And you were working at the Nuttall coal mine then?
JJ: Yea.
PN: In '59?
JJ: Yes.
PN: When did the town of Nuttall finally have everybody move away from it?
JJ: Well, they moved away from down there just about, let's see, they started to moving away, I guess; Jimmy Lenari - he was an old coal miner — he was the last one to move away from down there in 19, I guess they started to moving about 1952.
PN: What was the name of the last man that lived there?
JJ: Jimmy Lenari, Jimmy Lenari, he was the last man that left from down there.
PN: What, nobody lives there now?
JJ: No, not as I knowed it, I don't think anybody lives. If they did, they just, no, because I don't think there's any houses down there left. I think all the houses was tore down. Oh, there might have been a few old houses down there, back in the west part of Nut tall that they couldn’t get out, you know, handy. But I don't think there's anyone living down there; not to my knowledge is anyone living down there.
PN: Let me ask you some questions back around 1915 or 1920. Do you remember back about then pretty well?
JJ: Yes, not very well.[laughs]
PN: Let me get back…
JJ: When you get old, you know, you can't think too good, and your memories get weak.
PN: Back about that time, around 1915, 1920, when you were a young man starting to work in the mines, how many people worked in the mines there at Nuttall?
JJ: When I started, when they had mules in the mines, I guess there's around 300 people worked there at that time.
PN: How many people lived in the town?
JJ: I guess, let's see, I figure, I guess it's about around 350 families live there.
PN: About 350 families?
JJ: Yea, because they had coke ovens, you know, down there. And a good many of them worked on the coke ovens.
PN: What was the total number of people? Do you have any idea — would it be over 1,000 — 1, 200 people would live there, including women and children?
JJ: Well now, Henry Ford, you know, they bought Nutta11 out, you see. Old Nut tall mines was owned by a company named Beury Coal Company, from up here this side of Thurmond, you know, it's old Beury mines up there. That company owned Nut tall. Then they sold It to, in, it was 1918, they sold it to Maryland — New River Coal Company in Winona over here. Of course, the headquarters was in Pittsburgh of Maryland — New River Coal Company. And they sold it to, no, let's see now, Henry Ford owned it. Let me get this now; can I back up on that?
PN: Yea, just keep talking.
JJ: After old Beury mine — that's Nuttall mine - after they blowed out, why they sold it to Henry Ford. And Henry Ford, that was in 1918, Henry Ford bought it. And he repaired that mine all the way through. He scaled the top, widened out the entries, that's the main entries, and he put telephones in the mines, and they put a inside office in there for the inside mine foreman, and they widened out the side tracks — lengthened them out, made them longer. They had two mainline side tracks in there, you know. No, they had, let's see, the mainline motor that run from inside to the outside — brought the coal outside, it was, it would haul around 50 or 60 cars, about 60 cars. Well, they had a inside motor, it would pick up the empties and take them to the other side tracks inside the mine, you see, where they had the gathering motor would bring it to the side tracks inside the mine. So he'd gather the coal from the side tracks inside the mine. I think they had about four, four inside, side — track gathering motors, at one particular time. Then he would gather from them four side tracks, and bring it to this mainline motor side track which held about 60 cars. He'd bring the trip there, and he would bring out anywhere from 50 to 60 cars from inside to the outside tipple. And they would run it from the outside tipple down to the bottom tipple. That's when they put it in the railroad car. They had a conveyor line, that they run it down the conveyor line, from the top tipple to the bottom tipple.
PN: How many houses were there in Nuttall at that time, 1915, 1920?
JJ: Well, I couldn't, I, you know, I'd just have to guess at it, I don't know exactly. A good many company houses, you know. How many families I said lived there?
PN: About 300 families, 350.
JJ: Yes. Well, I guess that they had that many houses.
PN: It was a pretty big town then really?
JJ: Oh yes. You see when Henry Ford taken it over, you know who Henry Ford are?
PN: Yes.
JJ: Well, he spent a lot of money there. He's the one that put in a conveyor line. When this other old company had it, it had monitors. They would run it over the hill with monitors. You hear tell of this, didn't you?
PN: Yes.
JJ: Well, that's the way they used to run it from the top tipple to the bottom tipple.
PN: When Henry Ford bought it, did he build more houses and improve the houses?
JJ: He improved them some, but he didn't build any more. He improved the whole camp, cleaned It up, had it whitewashed, and it looked pretty. White — washed the rocks, and cleaned all the brush and stuff away from around the houses and trees. It was a nice looking camp.
PN: What did the houses look like themselves?
JJ: Well, they were just, just rough company houses, made out of rough lumber. There wasn't no dressed lumber. They were just built out of rough lumber. Of course, they had the houses painted, you know, they had them all painted.
PN: They did? Were they different colors, or the same color?
JJ: Practically all the same color.
PN: What was the color they painted most of them?
JJ: It was kind of gray like.
PN: Gray?
JJ: Yea.
PN: How many rooms were in most of the houses?
JJ: Well, some of them, I guess, they just company houses, I'd say four rooms in most of them.
PN: How did people use those rooms?
JJ: Well they, just like they used to use any other house. They’d cook in them; they had a kitchen, you know, small kitchen, dining room, and bedroom. Some of them had, you know, I guess two bedrooms.
PN: So if they had four rooms, they used two of them for bedrooms usually?
JJ: Well, some of them would. And some of them, you know, if it's a small family, they would give them a smaller house, you know, three rooms.
Just a man and his wife, and maybe a couple of kids, they'd get a smaller house, you see. And a man has a larger family, why they get a larger house. They had some two—storey houses down there. There'd be three rooms downstairs and three upstairs.
PN: And those were given to larger families?
JJ: There'd be two upstairs, and three rooms down. Yes, yes.
PN: In a house like that, that had two stories and five rooms, how many usually of those rooms would/ be used for bedrooms?
JJ: Well I couldn't exactly tell you how they'd use them, you know. I didn't go into all of them, you know. I guess, you know, they would single them out some ways, you know, to get the family comfortable.
PN: What other types of buildings did they have in the town?
JJ: They didn't have, they had a company store, you know. And they had a garage built, you know, wooden; a garage, you know, long, you see. People that had cars, they could rent them, you see, so much a month — about, it run around about a dollar a month. And every garage had a number on it, you see; every man knowed his garage, you see; there wouldn't be no confusion.
PN: Did they have a club house or any kind of a hotel?
JJ: Yes, yes, yes. They had a club house; had a big, pretty large club house.
PN: Did they have churches?
JJ: Yea we had church. Had two churches down there white and colored churches. m-lite and colored club houses.
PN: What denomination were the churches? Was it Baptist mostly?
JJ: Yea, Baptist, Baptist church. Both of them.
PN: How about schools?
JJ: Yea, they had schools down there. And they had the white school and colored school, you know, back, that's the way it was you know. It wasn't integrated. The company had all of that built.
JJ: Roughly, out of the, if there were 350 families there, how many of them would have been white and how many would have been Black, at that time?
JJ: Well there was, it had been just about equal, you know. They had, you know, a lot of men worked from up here, you know, lived up here on top of the hill, you know. They had some company houses up here on the mountain.
PN: Right here, like at Edmond here?
JJ: Yea, they close right here. They had one right out there. They had about one, two, three, four, about five company houses right here close where the mens work at. And then a lot of outside men had, owned their own private, you know, homes, you know. They worked there too.
PN: Did the outside men make a little bit more money, or something?
JJ: No, no. They just had their homes. They got jobs just like anybody else. They paid them the same. They didn't discriminate against nobody.
PN: In the schools, would the white school have white teachers and the Black school have Black teachers?
JJ: Yes, sure, yes, that's the way it was. And that's the way it was until they integrated, you see, the schools.
PN: Would the company hire the teachers?
JJ: No, no. The Board of Education, they would hire them and pay ‘em too, you know. They hired them and paid them.
PN: What was the highest grade, eighth grade?
JJ: Yea, it was right around about the eighth grade, yes.
PN: Did many of the students go beyond the eighth grade at that time?
JJ: Oh yes, some of them went, you know, after they graduated from free school, they went on to high school and college.
PN: Where would they go to high school, if they went to high school from Nuttall?
JJ: Most of the colored kids went to Montgomery High School. It's West Virginia Tech now, isn't it? So that's where the most went. And some went to Mt. Hope High School.
PN: How would they get there?
JJ: And some went to Bluefield. They didn't, they would just get ‘em a place and, you know, board, you know, stay there.
PN: If they were going to high school, or college, or both?
JJ: Well, that's the way they went, you know. They had to stay where they went, you know; get 'em a boarding place.
PN: Even high school after they finished eighth grade?
JJ: Yea.
PN: Did anyone take the train back and forth to Nut tall?
JJ: Yea, sure. That's the onliest way they had to travel, you know, on the train.
PN: When the students were going to school, though, would they live in Nuttall and take a train and go to high school and come back every day? Did anybody do that?
JJ: Some of them did. Some of them boarded, you know. Just like, some of them went to Bluefield, why they had to board there, you know. I had a sister went to Bluefield, and I had a niece went to Bluefield. They had to board up there, you know.
PN: Was there any differences back then in the types of jobs in the coal mine that the company would give to white miners?
JJ: No, indeed, no, no if you could do the work, you got the job. If you could load coal, or run a motor; of the coloreds, you know, they seems like they were better motor runners. They got most of them running the motors. Not all of them, but some of them.
PN: How about on the coke ovens, who did, was that about half white and half Black?
JJ: No, it had, about the same, about even, you know.
PN: On the coke ovens?
JJ: Yea.
PN: Did the coke ovens operate year round?
JJ: Yea, night and day.
PN: Night and day?
JJ: Coke ovens, you know, they would, they would pull the coke, you see, at nights, you see, and load it in the racks, big racks. I don't know if you ever seen the racks with them old coke, you never have seen no coke ovens?
PN: Yea, I 've seen some more modern ones. I’ve never seen the beehive ovens work.
JJ: You haven't seen no cars they haul It In? It's big rack, railroad cars, and then they'd have mens that pull that coke at nights, you see. And then on the day shift, they would load it, you see. Course, I never did work on that, but I know how they operated.
PN: What did it look like when they were pulling the coke out?
JJ: Well it just looked like cinders, you know, great big old large cinders. See they used "slack" you know; that's what they burned in the coke ovens "slack”*. And they had the ovens, you know, they put it down. They had a lorry [pronounced “larry" by Mr. Jones]; my wife 's brother used to run the lorry down there. It was on a wheel and it had a great big bed on it, and it would go up underneath the tipple. And that slack would come down, you know, into that, into that bed on that thing, the lorry. And it had wheels on it; it had track going on along, along the coke ovens. And you see a big hole in that big oven, made with brick. It [the lorry] would have a spout on it; and it would dump some slack down in this oven. Then he'd go a little piece further, and he'd pull that lever, and he'd dump some down in there, you know, to keep it burning, you know. And that's the way they would do all day long, till they made enough, you know, coke for them to pull that night, you see.
* "Slack" is "bug dust" or fine coal dust. Some of this dust was produced when coal was shot down underground, or later when mining machines cut into the coal face. Additional slack was made by grinding up chunks Of coal in the tipple. Only slack was used in the coke ovens, according to Mr. Jones. Other sizes of coal, which were shipped to markets, were: pea coal, nut coal, egg coal, and lump coal. Phone conversation with James Jones, November 2, 1980.
[Note: Limestone was also sometimes referred to as "slake," which can be pronounced either: “släk” or “slak.”]
PN: What was that called? Slack?
JJ: Yeah slack.
PN: Yeah what was that?
JJ: That s coal, coal out of the mine, you know, slack.
PN: So they kept on filling up the ovens then during the day?
JJ: And they had fellows that come early in the morning and pull all that coke out there, you see, pull it out. They had a big rake; they would pull it out. Then they had special fellows to load it, load it in the railroad cars, in them racks. And it was, I never did work on that, but I know, you know, I came up when they was running all their coke ovens all around up and down the river here. All these, Ansted, Kaymoor, Elverton, all them mines had coke ovens with them. And they put it on the market, just like they would coal.
PN: Was there a lot of smoke?
JJ: Oh, yes indeed, yes indeed. I don't see how people stood it.
PN: Did many of the people that worked on the ovens develop problems with their breathing?
JJ: Yes, a lot of them. But they didn't know, see they didn't, this silicosis that they're having now; you never did hear nothing about that, you know. That's what it was from that, you know, smoke and dust and stuff.
PN: Was it worse working on the ovens than working in the mines?
JJ: I think so, I would think so, yea. There was so much smoke down there. And a lot of people in the camp, you know, would breathe that, you see. That. smoke, that was terrible; you could smell it way before you. Course, it didn't bother people up here on the mountain, you know. But most of it, it'd go down the river, you see. Water draws smoke, you know; and it would draw it on down the river.
PN: That would affect everybody that lived in the camp then.
JJ: I imagine it did affect, you know, but the old doctors, they didn't know nothing about no silicosis. They'd call it asthma, you know; they got so they couldn't breathe, you know. They didn't pay nothing for it, you see. A lot of them just got so they couldn't hardly breathe, it would affect them so bad.
PN: What would they do then? Did they just retire?
JJ: Well, they keep on trying to work until they die. Like a horse, you know, when you get so old, you know, put him out in the field and die. Pick up what he can pick, you know, grass and then the next thing, he's gone. And that's the way they did. The doctor, you know, would give them medicine, you know. They'd go to the doctor, they had a company doctor. They'd go there, try to get something. He'd give them something to relieve ‘em or something. So you had to work, you know, just to live. No Social Security then, you know. Wasn't nothing, they didn't have nothing to go on then.
PN: So a lot Of the men, even though they had a hard time breathing or felt sick, they would just continue…?
JJ: Trying to work, you know, just trying, trying to make good, cause they had to make a living. It was pretty rough on them.
PN: When they used to take the coke out of the ovens in the morning…
JJ: Pull it out with a rake; they had a long thing with a handle on it. It was made at an angle, you see, just like a, just, you know, to rake it out, you know. And they'd go in there, they had special men go in about three o'clock in the morning; some went in around about 2:30. After that burned out, you know, the slack burnt up into coke. And so, you need to go down and pull that out, you see. And then they had special men to load it into the rack, into the railroad car.
PN: Did that light up the whole sky when they were doing that?
JJ: Yea, they would, you could see, you could see it was all lit up — the coke ovens. They had about, let's see, one, two, I'd say about 25 ovens. And they had to pull all them ovens, you see. After they pulled them all, that would make about two railroad cars of coke. Them railroad cars, you know racks, they was much higher than these just regular railroad cars. They had special men used to load that; they was colored fellows. I knowed them; one of them was about six foot eight. He was just tall, and he could load one by hisself. Yea, they started loading round about four o'clock in the morning, and he loaded one by, you know, the day. By eight o’clock, I guess he would load one by himself. You know, he was champion. They had these big forks, you know. They was wide, about that wide [indicating about 18 inches with his hands]. Just made like a shovel with a handle on it, you see, a long handle, pretty long handle. And that's what they loaded with, just like a pitchfork, you know, but it had, it was wide.
PN: You were talking about the mines before; let me ask you a couple of more questions about that. Did the Black and white miners work on the same crews and the same sections?
JJ: Yea, yea, yes indeed.
PN: When you were talking about the club houses, you said there were separate club houses?
JJ: Yea.
PN: Were they pretty much equal?
JJ: Oh yea. They had a nice Black, you know club house down there. And they had a nice white. They had about the same amount, you know, pretty much the same amount at each.
PN: Was there any foremen or bosses the company hired that were Black, or were the bosses white?
JJ: Well, at that time, they had, when I started in the mines, they had mules in there. They had a boss, you know, a boss, boss driver they called it, mule, mule boss driver. And they had tipple foreman, bottom tipple foreman [referring to the tipple at the bottom of the gorge], he was Black. And the top tipple foreman was white; Grover Siler, he was white. And the one down at the bottom, the bottom tipple, was, he was Black. And the mine foreman, inside mine foreman, was white. And the outside mine foreman, he was white. They didn't discriminate working in the mines.
PN: Was the housing generally segregated? Was there a Black section and a white section pretty much in town?
JJ: No, they was mixed up, you know.
PN: Just mixed up, wherever you got a house?
JJ: All over, yea, all over the camp.
PN: Were there any Immigrants from Europe, like from Poland or Hungary?
JJ: They had Poland, Polish, and what do you call them, Bolacks, what do you call them, and Italians, and Hungarians. Yea, all nationalities mostly worked there come and go, you know.
PN: What did they do, worked in the mine?
JJ: Load coal.
PN: Load coal?
JJ: Load coal with a shovel. they put machines in there to cut the coal after they took the mules out of the mines. They put machines in there. Then that's when, you know, a lot of people. Henry Ford, when he took over, why, one time they had around 500 men was working there, a little over 500 men I guess was working there.
PN: When was that?
JJ: As he took over, he bought the mines from this Beury I was telling you about — I believe his name was Tom Beury - in 1917.
PN: When did he get it up to 500 men?
JJ: Well, after he bought the mine, he taken the mules out of the mines. And he, that r s when he overhauled entirely inside the mines. Put in longer side tracks, put telephones in the mines, put electric lights all up and down the main entry, and put telephones on the side tracks where he could call, you know. And he scaled the top, made it, you know where the slate was bad, he scaled that and took it all down. And he bought new motors, new machines cutting machines, coal—cutting machines.
PN: When was this, around 1920, or when would this be?
JJ: Between 1917 and '28. In 1928, he sold it to Maryland New River Coal Company. He did all of that between 1917 and 1928.
PN: By the end of that time, by 1928, you say there were 500 people working there in Nuttall?
JJ: Well, let 's see, one time when Henry Ford was running it in full scale, after he got all of this done and put the conveyor line, he got the conveyor line, he put the new conveyor line in. Then he got ready to, you know, run, got all the entries and rooms in shape, why the people just poured in after jobs. And he hired them just as fast as they come in there. All nationalities would come in. And around about 20, 1921, ' 22, I guess he had around 500 men working there. He took one year to repair those mines one whole year he didn't run a pound of coal. And after he got it repaired and got, laid 60 pounds of steel on the main line, after he got it repaired, he brought three mainline motors and he had about 20 gathering motors he bought all of them new. He knowed he was getting the mine in shape and getting good machinery. He bought, I don't know how many cutting machines, ten or 12 cutting machines. And after he got it in shape, why then he started to, you know, they had men here, you know, just waiting, you know. A lot of them was already working, helping to repair the mine. I worked every day during the repair of the mines. A good many of them worked every day. Just as quick as they got the mines in shape, and got the machinery and everything, the conveyor line built and every— thing, now that's when they started to hiring new mens, you see. And he had about two, three hundred men working there, was already working there before he, you know, bought the place.
PN: Is that when a lot of the immigrants came in?
JJ: Yea, that's when they started to, a lot of them, some of them were here before that, you know. Some Hungarians, they had several families there, Hungarians.
PN: Did they bring many Black families up from the South, say from Alabama, like they did at some other mines?
JJ: No, no, no. There was enough of them around here, you know. There was a few come in from the South, but not too many.
PN: You were talking about the immigrants before. Did they have any
Catholic churches for them in Nuttall?
JJ: No, no.
PN: I guess many of them were Catholics?
JJ: I don't know what the denomination was. I know they come and go, you know. There was some of them come, and stay four or five months, then gone somewhere else. It was mines all up and down the river here then, you see. There on the other side of the river, you had Nutall, there was mines all up and down Elver ton, Browns, Kaymoor, Fayette Station — clean on down, all down, down till you hit Kanawha County.
PN: What did people usually do for fun or entertainment?
JJ: A lot of em used to gamble down there [laughs]. Course I never did gamble. A lot of them, mostly, you know, gambled, mostly got along, you know. Never nobody getting killed or nothing. Once in a while, they'd have a argument, somebody 'd get hurt — shot up, cut up, or something, but not too much. Not like it, nothing like as bad as it is now.
PN: Where would they gamble? At home or in the club house?
JJ: Down in the camp. Some of them had shanties, you know. They would, shanty, we called them shanty—mens, you know. They just shantied down there and worked in the mines.
PN: What did they have; did they have real little places?
JJ: They'd have about a three—room house… They had shanties down there, just for, you know, single men to come in.
PN: So people would go over there often and play poker or something?
JJ: Well, they didn't build it just, they built the shanties just for them to work in the mines, you know, not to gamble. But, you know, they would turn it into a gambling place, you know. They had to have some recreation. And they'd have a little place down there to play ball, baseball. And they'd go to church. They was happy times then.
PN: When they were gambling, what would they gamble with — company scrip?
JJ: No, they made money when Ford was there. They made good money; he paid more money than any of the other companies did.
PN: He paid cash, or did he pay in scrip?
JJ: No, he paid cash. Of course, if you go to the store and deal it up, why, you could go to the store and cut scrip, you see, and buy what you want. And what's left over, what you, after you, you know, your store count, why you draw that you know. He wanted his men to draw money.
PN: He did?
JJ: Yes indeed. Yea, he wanted to…
PN: Why? Would he figure he 'd attract better workers that way, or what?
JJ: Yea, and he, that's about the way he was, I guess. Yea, he liked to see 'em draw money. And he had some men down there, he would give them a bonus at the end of the month.
PN: Did they produce more?
JJ: Yea, they'd go in there and load 25 cars. They drawing into opposition agin' one another, you know. One try to load more coal than the other to make that bonus, you know, get that bonus. The one that'd load the most coal would get a bonus.
PN: How much was the bonus?
JJ: About ten dollars [laughs]. Wasn't very much to kill yourself, was it? [laughs] That's the way they did it. A fellow by the name of Flowers, he was a great coal loader. And another fellow by the name of Booker Spradley. They were the champion coal loaders. And of 3 course, he'd give them, you know, advantage, you know, places, good places to work.
PN: Were they white or were they Black?
JJ: They was Black. And they had some more down there was good coal loaders too.
PN: How many hours would you work a day, back then when you started?
JJ: We worked eight hours.
PN: Was that portal—to—portal, or once you got inside?
JJ: Well that's, you had, well that's just eight hours a day, you know. See, we didn't have no union when he was there. He didn't recognize the union. Wasn’t no union nowhere around here in 19, when he taken over and stuff.
PN: Was there a union when you were very small, do you know?
JJ: No, no, no.
PN: There was no union in 1901, when you were born?
JJ: No, no, no, no.
PN: When did it finally come in?
JJ: You used to work ten hours a day in the mine. Yea, my father, when I was a kid, he was working ten hours. Leave home it'd be dark, when he get back in it was dark.
PN: When did the union finally become organized in Nuttall?
JJ: In '30 and '31 is when we got it. It was organized once in '17, but it didn't last long, you know. It went under. The Baldwin thugs, you know, broke it up.
PN: Do you remember them being around the coal camp before the union came in?
JJ: They never did come around this camp down here, but they went to some camps, you know, and beat up a lot of mens, you know. They beat 'em up, you know. They was trying to organize, and they had a time.
But they, I never remember them coming around here.
PN: Do you remember Mother Jones coming around?
JJ: I remember her, but I don't remember her coming around here.
PN: Did you ever see her at any time?
JJ: No, I never seen her, just only her picture.
PN: Did many people raise gardens in Nuttall?
JJ: Yea, they had a little garden patch. They didn't have much place, you know, to, a lot of rocks. They'd raise a little garden, not much.
PN: What types of things would they usually put in a garden?
JJ: Onions and beans. Some of them had a little patch, they could just put a little bit of everything in there, you know, they could get in there. But they wouldn't have much space, you know, so much rock down there.
PN: Did they grow them right in back of their houses usually? Or up on the mountain?
JJ: Yes, yea, right in back of the houses.
PN: Did people plant flowers sometimes too?
JJ: Some Of them did, some of them did, yea. You'd have flowers on the porch, you know, and things.
PN: Did people keep like pigs or animals?
JJ: Yea, yea, yea.
PN: They did?
JJ: They'd raise pigs down there, some of them did. Cows, some of them had cows.
PN: Did the people ever have pets, like dogs or cats?
JJ: Yea, dogs running every whichaway. That's all they did have, dogs there, you couldn't hardly get down there. They had a company store down there too, you know, a big company store. And that's where the people down there dealt at, you see, done their dealing, their buying. Practically everything you got was from the company store. The company, you know, have a store there, you know; and they, the company wants you to deal at the store, you know. Some of the companies, if you didn't deal at the store, they'd get red of you. But it never was that way here, you know. But that's the way that some of the coal companies back at, during that time.
PN: Did they have any bars or taverns there?
JJ: No, no, no, no, they didn't have nothing like that.
PN: Was it hard for people to get moonshine if they wanted it?
JJ: No, you could bring it in. [laughs] Them gamblers, you know, they gambled, they'd bring in the moonshine, you know, in there. They made, a lot of them made this home—brew. You ever hear tell of that?
PN: Yea.
JJ: Some of them made wine, and anything they could make it out, you know.
PN: What did they make wine out of?
JJ: Sour grapes, make wine, and they had blackberry wine, grape wine, peach wine. They'd make something to drink, you know, something to get real crazy with, But it was mostly moonshine then, you know.
PN: Did anybody control the moonshine? Or was it just local people making it and selling it?
JJ: Yea, just people, different ones would make it and bring it in there, you see. They'd go around underneath these cliffs up around there, put 'em up a still, and run it.
PN: What did they make moonshine from mainly, corn?
JJ: Corn, I reckon. I never did see none made, but I 've drinked it. And I know one thing, some of it would make you crazy. But you know that back in them times, people got along good, you know, never much killing and nothing like there are now. People looked like they were more civilized.
But now people are crazy. I 'm scared of little kids anymore; they're on this dope, you know, drugs and this, what do you call it, marijuana, and all this different kind of stuff. It's a sin and a shame. There are kids, you know, that ruin theirself. Yea, it's everywhere too.
PN: Is there anything else you think is particularly important to say about Nutta11?
JJ: I think I 've about said everything I know. Well, let's see what I can say here now. I stole that woman [pointing to his wife, who had just walked into the room].
PN: Did you ever go fishing in the river there?
JJ: No, I never did go fishing. People used to fish down there.
PN: Some of them did?
JJ: Mm.
PN: Did some of the people hunt for anything?
JJ: Hunt groundhogs, and rabbits, you know, and possum. People would eat anything then, you know, because they wasn't making too much, you know. Yea, a lot of people did a lot of hunting. Used to be lots of groundhogs there down on the mountain. Then they'd hunt rabbits and possums, squirrels, coons, and anything they could hunt.
PN: Did you have refrigerators or anything to preserve meats, or did you salt them?
JJ: Back way back, let's see, when did the Frigidaires come in? What year did it come in? I know at home, we had a cellar underneath the house, you know, we made, you know, where we kept meat. We used to raise a cow or something, a heifer to kill every year, you know. Then they'd cut, my father, he was a butcher like. Then they'd raise hogs, chickens have eggs, have our own eggs and chickens. And have our own meat, you know, beef and hogs. Sell lard. We got along fine. In fact, everybody raised something then, you know, especially people up here on the mountain that worked down there. They had land, and they'd raise all they could, especially if they had a family. We got along just about as good as we get along now. Some people, you know, they act like it's hard for them to get along, I don't care if they was making a hundred dollars a day, they just look like they on a, just barely existing. They squander it. I guess that's about all I can tell you. [laughs]
PN: It's about to run out anyway.
JJ: [laughs] That's the first time I’ve ever had one of these things around my neck [referring to the microphone].
[End of Tape]
Oral History Project - Keaton, Dewey A. 1980
Railroading 1918-1970, Hinton engineer, Thurmond, Sewell, baseball teams
PN: To begin, Mr. Keaton, maybe I could ask you where you were born and what date you were born on.
DK: I was born in Hinton, 1899, 1899, and grew up here in Hinton.
PN: What did your father do for a living?
DK: He taught school for a while, and then he ran a transfer here, back in the horse—and—buggy days before there was any automobiles.
PN: What was a transfer? Like a taxi or something?
DK: Well similar to a taxi, except, moving, you know, like Atlas Moving.
You know what I mean. And that's about all he ever done.
PN: Did you go to school here in Hinton?
DK: I went to school here to the eighth grade. I didn't get to high school. I had to quit and go to work.
PN: And after you finished the eighth grade, what was the first job, or first work, that you had?
DR: Well I worked, when I was a kid I worked around a grocery store, and a garage, and just little odd jobs I'd pick up here and there. But in 1918, I went to work on the railroad. And I was going with a little girl out here in the West End. And her uncle was an engineer, and he asked me why I didn't go down there and get me a job firing. I said, "Well, I don't know anything about firing. He said, “Well you can learn like I did. So I went down and asked the man for a job . But prior to that time, prior to the time I went to work, I got a job on the shop track. I was about to forget that, and worked there a while [as] a car repair helper. Then I went to see this man about a job firing. And he said, "Well, sign your name.” That's the only re—, only requirement they ask in the way of education. If you could sign, if you could write your name, why you was OK. So I wrote my name. He said: "Now" — Mr. Taylor, that was the shop—track foreman — and he said: “If he would give you a release, I’ll give you a job.” so I went to Mr. Taylor and he said, “Well, if you want to better yourself, if you think you can better yourself, that's OK with me.” So he wrote me a nice letter of recommendation. I taken it back to Mr. Glass, and I went to work and I - I earned the road. And then I worked for about three months — a fireman, I learned to fire. And then, of course that was during World War I, and I signed up my na—, signed up 21, which I wasn't but 18. And the draft come along and they found out I hadn't registered, and they had me at the office, told me they had instructions to take all men out of service under 21. So they taken me out of service, and I was out then till the last of August 1918. And then they, they'd lost so many men to the draft, they hard up for fire—, hard up for men. They didn't have anybody. So [brief interruption as his wife comes in the door]. They take me out of service and paid me off. I had two or three good suits of clothes and a little money in my pocket. And I just didn't care. I was free, white, I wasn't 21, but I was free, free and white. And I went to the country and stayed two or three months; or no, I stayed a month, July And when I came back, why they'd been trying to get a hold of me and I went down to see Mr. Glass, I wrote for him. And he almost hugged me. He was out of men and he says: "We’ll put you back to work if your Daddy will sign a minor's release." So I got a hold of my Daddy, and he signed the re—, release. And I went back to work. And then I worked then till Depression hit. Of course I was pretty deep on the seniority list. I said, “Well, they won't get down to me. I'm all right." Every time they cut — they kept cutting, cutting, cutting finally, buddy, they got me. And so I was off then, I was off about two years, wasn't it? Of course, I got emergency work along that time.
PN: What year was that? 1929 or so?
DK: Well that was the thirty—, when I, the Depression hit in 1929, started. And then, I don't know, I still held on till about '33, you know, just kept dropping a little with each month, you know. ‘33, and then I was cut off about two years.
PN: What was your job at the time you were cut off?
DK: Where was it? Here.
PN: No, no, what was your job?
PN: Fireman.
PN: Fireman?
DK: Fireman, yea, oh yes. Then I was promoted in 1928, I reckon it was, wasn't it? [speaking to his wife] To engineer in 1928. And then, what year was it, I went back to work?
MK: [his wife] About 34, wasn't it?
DK: '36, I think it was.
PN: You became an engineer in 1928, but you were a fireman when you were cut off?
DK: You see, they promote you and you’re still a fireman till you, till a such a time as you, as you're needed to an engineer, and then they mark you up as an engineer, you see.
PN: He'd run sometimes as a fireman; they call him sometimes as an engineer.
DK: Yea, I 'd [get] a lot of running, emergencies, you know. Then I went right back to work in '36, I think it was. I'm just giving you this from memory; I don't have any specific date. Then I never was cut off any more.
PN: When did you finally retire as an engineer?
DR: In November…
MK: 70, November the third, ‘70
DK: November the 30th, November 30th, yea, in 1970.
PN: When you were an engineer based in Hinton, how far did you usually travel on the railroad when you were working?
DK: Well, I worked both ways. From Hinton to Clifton Forge, that was a distance of 82 miles. And west, was 72 miles to Hanley; that was our home terminal. Which we had a hundred mile or less, or eight hours or less, constituted a day. That was our agreement. If we make a run in three hours, OK. Then, then a, but they generally had it so you couldn't make it. Oh once in a while you'd get a trip like that, but, on a, on a rush manifest or something like that the train they wanted to get over the road. But most of the time, they loaded you down with 95 loads of coal with a steam engine. And it was just a drag all the way from, from Hanley to Hinton. But on Alleghany Mountain, they used to have pushers out of Ronceverte. That pusher, his terminal was at Ronceverte. And he got on behind us there and shoved us to Alleghany, top of Alleghany Mountain. Then he come back to, to Ronceverte. That's where his home was, I mean home terminal. But later on, they cut the pushers out. Then they'd just give you a tonnage for the bottom. And you could make good time up the bottom. When you hit the hills, that slowed you down. And, but that was a good railroad. And that, 1950 and along there, that was C. and O.'s heighth [sic] . They had the best railroad and the best track and the best equipment. But since they got the diesels, and merged, why it just went to wrack. She's just no good. They don't haul, they don't, right now the boys, I got two sons that's engineers.
PN: On the C. and O.?
DK: Yea. And they, overtime, they don't care. The hours of service catches them about every time they go out. They have to send a taxi after them. And I don't know what the matter with them now, they, somebody got a whole lot that they don't know what they're doing or something, I don't know.
PN: So you often hauled coal from here along the New River gorge, and along all those towns like Prince, Quinnimont, Terry, up through Thurmond?
DK: Yea, yea, yea.
PN: What's your memory of going through those towns, say, you know, in 1918 and the early twenties?
DK: Well, Thurmond at that time was a boom town. And it's a town with no streets. They ain't got no streets. You've heard that, haven't you? And but you come up through there on a Sunday afternoon, and buddy, them people's out there in swarms. They had two banks, two hotels, and I don't know, they had just about everything you wanted there. But they didn't have any streets. People come there from Charleston, western cities, and the East. They had a big poker game going on down there, went on for about three years there — one game that, in the Dunglen Hotel. But now it's a ghost town; ain't nobody there at all. Oh, maybe a few families there.
MK: They got a big restaurant there, Dewey.
PN: Did you stop to pick up coal often in towns like Beury or Sewell or Caper ton or Nut tall?
DR: Stopped at Sewell, yea. We used to, they had a big mine up there at Babcock Coal Company. They put out a lot of coal, coke too. And we used to run a crew out of Hinton to Sewell, and turn. Give you a message down here, turn at Sewell, get these trains at Sewell. And we, a lot of times, we get a, go down to Sewell. And then a, yes, I remember all of the little towns up there, and down. They put, the state was dry then, but the old saloon building was still standing at Hawk's Nest and different places up and down the road there. The local freight used to pull up there in Sewell and stay at one place for eight hours — solid unloading freight, and feed and grain for the mules. You know, in them days they used mules in the mines; they didn't no motors like they do now. And of course, they taken a lot of, a lot of supplies for them. But that was a boom town then. That was Bab—, Babcock Coal and Lumber Company, I believe was the name of it.
PN: Back during the time when Prohibition was in existence, was it very hard to get liquor at that time?
DR: No. We had [laughs], I helped made liquor [laughs]. Back before I was married.
MK: You didn't help make it!
DR: I did help make it!
MK: You was just there where they was making it!
DK: Well, I helped.
MK: [Laughs rather angrily.]
PN: Was it often [brief interruption from the telephone ringing]. Let me just ask you a little bit more about, you know, Prohibition days and stuff. Did, did people often used the railroad to bring liquor from town to town to sell it?
DK: No, we never did any of that. But there was a lot of it done on, on the train, you know. They, on Alleghany Mountain, they made it over there and they'd get on the train at Alleghany and bring it into Hinton. I know that. But, I know we didn't have to go out of Hinton. We, up, up New River here, they, I could take you up there. One place looked like a sawmill had been there where they made liquor. Yea, and, and different places. I know up on my brother's farm, they had a still back of that. The old barrel hoops are still there. And moonshine was $40 a gallon; you know, that was a big, big temptation, you know. Them old boys up the river there, they'd make it and they'd bring it down the road. And they, they had lawyers here and doctors and different people like that — they bought it, you know. I didn't know who all bought it.
MK: Dewey, tell him about that tram up there. That place where they made whiskey's still there.
DR: Well, that place up there's just exhibition now, you know. This place up at the state, the hotel, used to own, park, or motel, whatever you call it. There's a place under a cliff up there that part of a still's still there.
PN: Did people that made the moonshine, did they usually work at that full—time? Or did they have, you know, other occupations?
DK: Well, I’ll tell you about a shoot—out, at Pipestem. They had a, the Neely boys, the three of them. There was Grat, Claude, and Ed. They were three brothers. They was good men, well I mean honest men. They would pay you every nickel they owed you. And then you could depend on what they tell you. But they made liquor, and they made good liquor. And they had a, they were buying their supplies from a fellow by the name of Pennington. And he operated a little store right on the Summers and Mercer County line; that's just south of the entrance where you go into Pipestem Park. And they had their, they bought their supplies from this fellow Pennington. And Pennington, he raised their price. And of course, they didn't like it. And they got, they went somewhere else to get their, their supplies which was corn meal and sugar and other things they had to have. Then, of course, Pennington didn't like that. So that's when the feud started. So [another brief interruption from the telephone ringing].
PN: You were telling a story about the shoot—out in the…
DR: Yea, that's when the feud started. And Pennington knew, I guess, about when the run would be ready to run off. So he went to Princeton, that was in Mercer County, and he got the Prohibition men, people, you know, state police and some more of them. And they went in and waylaid these boys. and the men, they come in there and started their work, and, and the Prohibition men ordered them to throw up their hands. Instead of throwing up their hands, they throwed up their guns. So they had a big shoot—out. One of the Neelys was killed. And one of the state police was, he was wounded in the arm. And then it went on for some time, things was pretty hot around there. And this Pennington, he decided he 'd better move out. So he was out there in front of his house loading his wagon up, loading his furniture in there. And somebody shot him with a high—powered rifle — killed him. And they never did know exactly who done it. But they went back then and arrested the Neelys kid they, they was, they got a trip for moonshining. But they never did know who shot Pennington. So that was the end of that story. But the Neely boys, they, they was good, good, good men, you know. They wouldn't treat you, they wouldn't lie to you. They was a, of course they was a little bit of kin to me, but that didn't make em any better. And not only the Neely boys, but a, about everybody, not everybody, but a lot of, there was a lot of moonshining going on then, you know, up New River, up them hollers up there. There was a still about in every holler. But just as I said, moonshine was $40 a gallon. And that was a pretty big temptation, you know, for men working for $2 a day, you know.
PN: Let me ask you a few more questions about the twenties and the early period of time when you began to work. When you started on the railroad in 1918, were there any unions at that time?
DK: Yes, we had a union then. But prior to 1914 now that was before my time on the road, but I knew about it the men had to live on the engines. They cooked. And they had what they called a "hay board"; slept on it. They kept em in the side track, and delayed em. Sometimes it was 24 hours getting from one terminal to the next. And they carried their food, and had a steam cooker on the engine. And they cooked on there. But then in 1914, they got the Hours of Service law. That was under Woodrow Wilson. And you got the eight—hour day. And the 16—hour work law; they couldn't work you longer than 16 hours. But we worked, a fireman on the road engine made 50 cents an hour at that time. Then, that's when I went to work, worked, made 50 cents an hour. They finally then, when they got the 16—hour law, of course they had to put a little more efficiency in their, you know, handling. And it was a lot better for them, but…
PN: What was the 16—hour law? That you couldn't work longer than…?
DK: Longer than 16 - that's right, longer, and another they had to give you eight hour's rest. You could take ten if you, if you required it. But they had to give you eight hour's rest before they'd call you back.
PN: And with the eight—hour day, did that mean that, was that a 40—hour week then?
DK: No, no, didn't have no 40—hour week. Eight—hour day, work every day if you wanted to, and then some. Some days, some days, as I said, eight hours or less constituted a day. But sometime we made two days in one calendar day, you know.
PN: So they'd pay you for two days?
DK: Yea, yea.
PN: Did they pay overtime rates above eight hours, or was that straight time?
DK: Not then, they didn't.
PN: That was just straight time?
DK: Straight time. But later on, then we got time and a half for overtime.
PN: When was that? Do you remember?
DK: I don't remember . I don't remember exactly.
PN: In the 1920s, did the railroad unions remain effective throughout the 1920s? Even though, say, that the UMW was destroyed in 1921—22?
DK: No, we had our organization. We never had any trouble that—a—way.
PN: And that wasn't destroyed in the twenties?
DK: No, not our, not our organization.
PN: Which was the union that you belonged to at the beginning, when you began working?
DK: Fire—, the B. of L. F. and E. — Engineer and Fireman.
PN: So you, so you remained in that same Brotherhood the entire time…
DK: Well no, they had two different, two different organizations — the Fireman and the Engineer, which wasn't right. We ought to had one, because what one affected one affected the other, you know. But it was that way, and I didn't know why it was that way.
PN: As an engineer, what, your responsibilities were just driving the engine obviously, but how would you describe the work you did at that time?
DK: Well, of course the engineer, he, he was responsible for the engine, and he was responsible for his fireman. His fireman was working under the engineer. And you had to stay, so, had to stay on the ball, so to speak. You know, you couldn't go to sleep or anything like that. You had to keep, keep your eyes open for everything. And not get by a block or flag or anything like that.
PN: When you were working as an engineer, you were living here in Hinton, right?
DK: Mm.
PN: Back in the, in the twenties, what type of a house were you living in?
DK: Well, right over there, that big house on the corner.
PN: Oh, you lived right here?
DK: Yea, that was my old homeplace over there. That's where I grew up. I moved over there on the corner when I was four years, about four years old. Of course the house wasn't built until my Daddy, you know we had a little small house that burnt down. My Daddy built this house later.
PN: So you were living in the same house your parents were then when you began working for the railroad?
DK: Yea, mm.
PN: Back, you know, at that time in the twenties and the thirties, were there many Black or Eastern European immigrant people that worked on the trains with you?
DK: No, there were no Blacks. Now we had a few colored switchmen down here on the yard. But they never got any, any promotion. They, you know, they just stayed as switchmen. They never, ordinarily they [were] promoted as conductor and on up, you know, and maybe yardmaster. But they never got any promotion. They had to stay where they started. I remember Old Man Fred Wells and Tommy Nelson. They were old, real old, when I came here. But they were still working. And they had their fingers cut off where they'd coupled a old Lincoln—pin car years ago. And I remember them so well. But that's as far as they ever got, as a, as a switchman. And they had been, they had several colored switchmen then. But later on, they quit hiring 'em. I don't think they hired any since I got a job. They, all these were here when I got a job. But now, it's different; they're hiring em. There's some of them been working on the, I mean the mainline now as firemen. And they got a woman braking on Alleghany Mountain.
PN: Yea?
DK: Yea, that's what they tell me, yea.
PN: Were there any immigrants that came from countries like Poland or Hungary or…
DK: No, no; I don't remember, I don't recall any foreigners being on work with me.
PN: In terms of Hinton at that time, did they have any Catholic churches in Hinton?
DK: One, yea, mm.
PN: Who would attend that? Would it be railroad workers?
DK: Yea, we had some Catholic railroad workers.
PN: What was their background? Were they Irish or Italian or…
DK: Irish and Italian and. Now you asked me about immigrants. Yes, we had one man here, Pete Matusic. Charlie [Charles Hannah, who was also present during the interview], you remember him. He was Italian; he was a brakeman conductor. And Mike Cusic, was Irish. He was a engineer. We had some Irishmen here; but they was all native born. I don't think they was born there, you know what I mean.
PN: When you were an engineer, going up the New River, did you ever spend much time in any of the towns, like Sewell, that you stopped in?
DK: No, just long enough to get our train together and then, you know what I mean, pick up or set off. Now I did work at Thurmond, on Loup Creek [Dunloup Creek] a while. I worked there as a fireman a while.
PN: What, going up toward Glen Jean?
DK: Yea, up on, yea. And then when I was marked up as engineer, I worked at, I worked at Thurmond, and Quinnimont on Laurel Creek, and on Hawk's Nest branch I run that run and I worked at Raleigh a while.
PN: Is that when you still lived in Hinton?
DK: Yea, still lived, yea, mm, still lived here.
PN: Did they have many shanties, or shanty cars, for people that would work in some of these different towns for the railroad?
DR: We had a, what we called a bunkhouse. At Hanley, we had a bunkhouse. It was, the company furnished it. And it was a, pretty comfortable. We had a comfortable bed to sleep in. And a, we had a place where we could do our cooking. And we had a electric ice box and everything, you know, out there. But when I first started, we didn't have that convenience. We had to [laughs] sleep on a, on a mattress made out of shucks, corn shucks, you know.
PN: Where?
DK: At Hanley. That's where the bunkhouse was, at Hanley. But later on we, we got a little, you know, better conditions, along as time went on. Then we had a bunkhouse at Thurmond too, and also at Raleigh.
PN: In an average week, when you lived in Hinton, how many nights would you spend at home and how many nights would you spend in some of these other towns?
DK: Well, of course we, we taken our, we went to Haney, we'd stay, taken a rest there. Well I mean eight hours or, or from eight to 16, and sometimes longer. But if they kept you away from home longer than 16 hours, they had to pay you. They had to pay you prorata rate, you know. And we generally got out of Haney from eight to ten hours, 12 hours, along there somewhere. And the same way in Clifton Forge, we went to Clifton Forge. We taken a rest over there and come back.
PN: When you went to Clifton Forge, what were you hauling then?
DK: Coal, mm. Well, of course, we had some manifests run there too, you know. We'd haul, a manifest is a perishable rush food and rush stuff, you know. The last, last six years I worked was on a manifest run from Hinton to Russell, Kentucky 167 mile. And it would take me about five hours and a half to make the run. Now that was the, that was the best job, I mean you know, and I was the oldest man, and seniority, you know, had the right, rights, you know. And of course, I had the best job.
PN: So this was up until the year that you retired in 1970?
DK: Mm, mm.
PN: You were mentioning before about the change from steam engines to diesel engines. How would you describe the changes that took place in your job, say, when this happened?
DK: Well, the diesel, the diesel was a whole lot easier [to] handle. But when they taken the steam off the railroad, they taken the thrill out of railroading. There just wasn't no thrill running the old diesel engines. Of course, they was cleaner. And we had our, our drinking fountain there and our own toilet and everything, which we didn't have on the steam engine, you know. But I missed the steam engine, yea.
PN: Maybe you could talk a little bit more about that, and why you missed it.
DR: Well I, just kind of gets in your blood, you know. You miss the smell of the oil and the smoke and the exhaust the old engine, one thing and another. That big engine that 1600 type — that was the best steam engine that we ever had here. We 've never had a engine, or a diesel, could make the time on Alleghany Mountain with a passenger train. And we used to take 18 or 20 of them big steel sleepers, steel sleepers; and that big 1600, buddy, she'd run off with them up the hill. Yea, she'd make good time with her.
PN: Was there more danger involved in any way in running steam engines?
DK: Well, of course, with the diesel we didn't have steam pressure, you know. There were a lot of times you'd have a wreck where you'd scald you to death, you know. I know on train Number Five, I believe, just west of, of White Sulphur [Springs], Old Man Dolly Womock was engineer. And it jumped the track somewhere there a little below White Sulphur, and pinned his feet in against the boiler. And he just scald him to death, broke a little steam pipe up there. And if he had, if he got out of there, he'd have been all right. But he had his, he just burnt to death, that's all, scald him to death. That was a difference there; you didn't on the diesel, of course you don't have that steam pressure that can be hard to contend
PN: Back in the, you know, again in the early days, in the twenties, what did you do for recreation or entertainment at that time?
DK: Well, I was always a hunter, a hunter, and I never cared too much about the river. But I kept my dogs and a coon hound. I coon hunted a lot. And bird dogs, and I used to keep fox hounds. We used to, I used to get out three o'clock in the morning with my fox hounds, and get one started, you know. They're a night, night, night animal, you know. And we get one started, and then take your stand, and daylight come, well shoot him. I've killed several of them that way. Then I used to rabbit hunt a lot. And bird hunt; I had my bird dogs. Never cared much about the river; I've fished some, but not too much. We had a, oh a bunch it wasn't, wasn't railroad men, it was merchants and doctors and one thing and another I used to hunt with a lot.
PN: Were there many theaters, or places like that, in Hinton back then?
DK: Many what?
PN: Movie theaters or other places?
DK: Yes, we had a, we always had a picture show here. And back, the earliest recollection I have is one they called the Bijou, run by Alec Parker on Summers Street, when I was just a little boy. And then the Fairland, they called it; it was five and ten cents; you get in for a nickel if you's under 12, you know. And then the Masonic Theater, that was, that was before television, you know. And they did a big business then, you know, picture shows.
PN: Did many people belong to lodges or fraternal organizations of any kind?
DK: Yea, we got, oh I don't know, I belong to the Rotary Club.
PN: Back then?
DK: Not the Rotary, T belonged to the ain't that a 'crazy? I'll think of it in a minute.
PN: The Masons or the Redmen?
DK: I was rejected at the Masons. [laughs]
PN: Why was that?
DR: I never did know. [laughs] I never did know. But I never tried a second time. Kiwanis Club, that's what I, yea. I don't know why I couldn't, didn't think of that.
PN: What type of people belonged to the Masons back then?
DK: What type of people?
PN: Yea. Were there many railroad workers that belonged?
Dk: Yea, yea. They practically all were. That's about all that was here then, you know, railroad men. I can't tell you much about the Mason's organization. I know, one of my engi—, Old Man Elton, Melvin Maston, he was an old engineer [at] that time, and I used to fire for him some. He asked me if he could take my name in and present it to the Masons. And I said, "Yea." But they rejected me, and I never tried anymore.
Pn: Back in the twenties, did they have any baseball teams that railroad workers would play on, like the coal—town leagues?
DR: Yea, mm, mm. We had a, a shop, a C. and O. shop team down here. Charley [Hannah], you all them old boys used to play here — Rogers and all them boys, you know.
CH: They played the Cincinnati Reds.
DK: Yea, they played the Cincinnati Reds. And they scored oncet [sic] on them. I think it was ten to one, I believe.
PN: Did they play some of the oth—, who did they usually play? Would they go around to some of these other towns and play baseball teams?
DK: Yea, yea, oh yea, different, different terminals. Hand ley, you know, they had a team. Hinton had a team. Clifton Forge and all, so on, you know.
PN: Would those baseball teams, though, of railroad workers tend to play other baseball teams of railroad workers, rather then coal miners?
DK: Yea, mm. I don't think, I don't know if they ever played any coal miners or not. It was mostly between the railroad, the shop men.
PN: What were some of the other towns that would have teams, do you remember?
DR: Handley had a team. And Ronceverte had a team. I don’t know about Clifton Forge; I guess they had one too, I don't know.
PN: What did your father do for a living?
DK: My father?
PN: Yea.
DK: Well, he taught school as I told you, you know.
PN: Oh, that's right.
DK: For a while, and then he had a transfer here for a long time.
PN: What, what did your grandfathers do? Do you know?
DK: I never knew my grandfathers . My grand—, my grand—, one of my grand—fathers left here in 1872, and divorced his wife and left his family up here in Pipestem, and went down to Big Sandy River. And remarried down there and raised a family down there. And I went down there a couple of months ago to try to locate some of them people down there, but I, I, I couldn't find any of them.
PN: Was it over in Mingo County?
DK: That was a, what county is a, you mean where he went to?
PN: Yea.
DR: It was in Kentucky.
PN: Oh, Kentucky.
DK: I don't know what county it was. It was on the Big Sandy River around, I've forgotten the names of them places up there now.
PN: Back in the twenties, did the railroads ever operate anything like the company stores that the coal companies did?
DK: Fitzgerald they worked in connection with the railroad. Now whether that was owned by the railroad, I don't think it was owned by the railroad, but they, the railroad men, they dealt; you know what I mean, some of the men, you know, stayed a 'hard up all the time, you know, and broke. And they'd have to buy through Fitzgerald, you know, and take it out of their wages. That's the way they had it then.
PN: Where did Fitzgerald have stores?
DK: Had one on Summers Street down here, and oh, I could tell you a number of it, number of the house. And they had one at Russell, Kentucky and…
PN: Did they have one in Thurmond?
DK: Yea, they had one In Thurmond.
PN: Did they have one in a town like Handley or Clifton Forge too?
DK: I don't think there's, I don't think there was a Fitzgerald at Handley, no. Or Clifton Forge, I couldn't, I couldn't say. Well I imagine they did at Clifton Forge.
PN: Did the railroads ever have anything like scrip? Or did you just have stuff deducted from your wages?
DK: No, they didn't have scrip. But they had, at that jewelry store down here, you could, you could buy jewelry or anything like that, a watch, and have it taken out of your wages. But they didn't have any scrip that I, I know of. [Tape turned off briefly.]
PN: Why don't you tell the story you were just mentioning.
DK: Well, I was called at Handley one morning, on Sunday morning, about ten o 'clock. And I had instructions: “No fill on New River.” Now ordinarily we had, on through the week days, we had to stop at Thurmond or Quinnimont, one, and pick up, you know. Pick up some more cars; Of course, the grade level led off, you know, and the more the grade levelled off, the more tonnage you'd pull. And it was on Sunday, and I wanted to get in. And I was coming through Thurmond; of course, I had that 1600, I had her laid out. We was coming to town! And coming through Thurmond, well a, yardmaster they always got out there and watched the train by, you know, if there ging or, you know, some, something dragging. And I got up signal it was against me. And then I got on around, of was anything drag— to the, the next course when the signal is against you, you got to make arrangements to stop, you know. I got around up there where I could see the, the telegraph office that was C. S. Cabin, just east of Thurmond and the operator was down there with a red flag, flagging me. And when we stopped, when I stopped, a journal fell off one of the cars, about ten cars back of the engine.
PN: What fell off?
DK: The journal, the end of the car, you know, the, well, the…
PN: What, the coupling, or something?
DK: No, it's a…
CH: Axle.
DK: Axle, the axle, you know, on one of the wheels [A journal is "the part of a rotating shaft, axle, roll, or spindle that turns in a bearing" Webster's Dictionary.] It fell off and, I know coming across Sewell Bridge, you could see back biggest part of your train. Of course, we all looked the train over then when we crossed there. But this car, it had a little old paten oiler on it. [A paten is "something (as a metal disk) resembling a plate”; Webster's Dictionary.] There wasn't any, wasn't any dope, or anything, anything to burn. And you could stand right over it and see a little blaze about the size of a match. But then they asked me the next day about why I couldn't see that thing burning. And I said, “Well, there wasn't anything there. Wasn't any burning there. It just burnt off." And I asked the train—master, I said, “Do you know anything about the lubrication of that car?" And he said, “No, I don't know a thing about it. I said, "Well, I’ll tell you for my benefit and yours” I told him about this little old oiler, you know, and I never heard any more about that. But if that thing had a come off at Thurmond, there wouldn't have been any Thurmond. But shoot, that'd have wiped, I don't know, Lord, it'd have wiped Thurmond off the map.
PN: Why, because…
DK: The speed I was a'making. Yea, and the yardmaster, he was a good friend of mine. I said, "Now Barley, I said, "you know I was running pretty fast. I” He says, “I don't get anybody any trouble.” That's what he said.
PN: How fast, you know, could you get the train up to, if you were going as fast as you could?
DK: Well, 40 miles an hour was the speed limit. But we run faster than that a lot of times.
PN: What was the highest you could reach?
DK: Oh I just don't know. I run a passenger train, I expect a hundred miles an hour, yea.
PN: Were the tracks in better shape back then than they would be today?
DR: Yea, yea, mm. Of course they’ve done a lot of work on it in the last year here, but they let it go down for long after the diesel come in. They thi—, they thought that the diesel didn't tear up track, you know, there wouldn't be any more maintenance there. But they was wrong about that. They just let everything go. As long as that diesel would run, then all right, as long as it run. They didn't care anything about anything else. But now it's a little different. I think that they kind of got their eyes opened. But still, they 've taken the tracks up now, made a one—track railroad all out of it. And why they did that, I don't, I'll never know. And they get out here, and the Hours of Service law catch them about every time they go out. And overtime, they don't care anything about overtime. They just make four hours of overtime every time they go out. Now that's only, they can't work but 12 hours now. They used to work 16, you know. But they can't, they got that cut down to 12. Only in extreme case of emergency, they work you a little longer than that.
PN: And there's problems because there's only a single track? And that delays a lot of the…
DK: Yea, you know, one man's got to wait somewhere, you know. If there 's two trains going, there's one of them's got to take a side track. But we used to didn't have that. We had double track; and sometime, four—track system, you know.
PN: Along New River?
DK: Yea. Well, that was on Huntington division, we had four tracks. And we had this CTC signal that's centralized train control. You run either way on either track. So there wasn't any delay then on account of being over on the side track, one thing and another.
[End of Tape]
Oral History Project - Kelly, Annie 1980
Homemaker, Elmo, Browns, Nuttall, mining towns during the 1920s and 1930s
PN: Maybe I could start off by asking you where you were born, and
what your birthday was.
AK: I was born at, Grayden was the post office, and my birthday is
October the 31st, 1904.
PN: And what did your father do?
AK: Worked in the coal mines .
PN: Where did he work in the mines?
AK: He worked at Ajax, Michigan, Elmo, and Gaymont; and as far as I know, he never worked at Sunnyside. That was all the mines down the river there, from Fayette on down. I don't, as far as I know he never worked at Fayette.
PN: Down the river towards Ansted?
AK: Uh huh, towards Hawks Nest.
PN: Towards Hawks Nest?
AK: Uh huh.
PN: Maybe you could describe again how Ames got its name.
AK: Well, the company bought the, bought Ajax, Michigan, Elmo, and Sunnyside. And they took the first letter of each name, and that's how Ames got its name.
PN: What were the coal companies that owned the mines that your father worked in? Do you remember?
AK: Well as far as I know, that was the companies — that was all the different companies. And they stayed that way until this company, I don't know what the company is, that bought them all and made one company out of.
PN: Where were your father and mother born?
AK: My mother was born at Grayden, West Virginia. And my father was born in Ironton, Ohio.
PN: Were his relatives miners there?
AR: Well, I believe that they was miners too, or they worked in the coal works. All I ever heard him talk about was ore mines, so I don't know which he meant. So I do know that they came here to Grayden — that's where they moved to to work in the mines.
PN: And when you were growing up, you spent the whole time in Grayden?
AK: Uh huh, all my life in Grayden till, anyhow, grew up in Grayden and stayed here till I was 21 years old. And then I married and I went down on the coal works to live then.
PN: What was the name of the town that you lived in then?
AK: Elmo.
PN: Elmo?
AK: Mm.
PN: When you got married, was your husband a coal miner?
AR: Mm, yea; he'd been a coal miners since he was 11 years old.
PN: Really?
AR: Really.
PN: What did he do, where did he start working?
AK: Well really I don't know. I never did ask him, but I do know it was some of these mines around here.
PN: What, he worked around in these mines during his whole life?
AK: Mm, his whole life. He went, he started working with these, trapping, if you know what I’m talking about, when he was 11 years old. And he wasn’t very tall then, so he said he dragged the bottom out of his dinner bucket — he was so short. Kept him busy buying dinner buckets. And then he quit working at that, and started to helping his father load coal.
PN: You moved to Elmo about 1925, you said?
AK: Right.
PN: Maybe I could just ask you some questions about Elmo then.
AK: All right.
PN: When you moved there In 1925 and that period, how many houses were there in the town then?
AK: Oh, I wouldn't have the slightest idea, about, I'd say 50 anyhow.
PN: How many people lived there at that time?
AK: I don't know that either, but I know all the houses stayed full and there was lots of children. I don't know; I never thought about ever counting them or anything.
PN: Is Elmo right on the river?
AK: Mm, right straight on the river. Right down straight here over the mountain, right down that way, is Michigan. And Elmo then was about,
I'd say, a mile, right on the river.
PN: Was that right on the C & O mainline?
AK: Mm, C & O, right on the mainline.
PN: What did the houses look like in Elmo back then in 1925?
AK: Some of them wasn't very nice. Well they was just typical coal—mining houses. And then of course, the supervisor and the foremens and the store, the ones that mind the store and all that — their houses were all nicer than the…
PN: How many rooms did you have in the house that you were living in?
AK: The one I went to housekeeping in, I had five.
PN: Five?
AK: Mm.
PN: What did you, do you remember what you used the different rooms for?
AK: Well, we had two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen.
PN: Did you have a dining room too?
AK: No, we didn't have a dining room cause we used, could have had, but we used it for a bedroom.
PN: What was the fifth room for, that you mentioned?
AK: We just used it to store things.
PN: How did you heat your home back then?
AK: With coal, coal in the fireplace. We had a coal stove, coal cooks stove I mean.
PN: Did you have any type of gas or electricity at that time?
AK: No, not at that time.
PN: When did electricity come into Elmo?
AK: Well, it must have come about, let me think now; well I don't really know exact1y, but I believe in about probably 1930.
PN: When you were, what types of things did you eat? And where did you get your food when you lived there?
AK: Well, we bought ours at the company store.
PN: Did you grow any yourself?
AK: Not right then we didn’t.
PN: Did many people back then have gardens?
AK: Yes, a lot of them did, where they had room for them, you know. But see there's so many houses in such a little space. I know one, one man, he was superintendent, they had a big garden. And when he left there, and then he moved away, and then some friends of ours moved in his house, so they had a big garden. Wasn't very many people had room for gardens.
PN: Did people keep hogs or cows?
AK: Not cows; I think a few of them had a hog once in a while.
PN: Or chickens; did anyone keep chickens?
AK: Yes, they kept chickens. We didn't have any, but that's. when we was first married and first starting out. It took a while to build up, you know.
PN: Did you raise any children in Elmo?
AK: I had two in Elmo.
PN: Was there a school right there in the town?
AK: A school, yes, a school and a church and, oh, that was about all we had. About all we needed I guess, really. How many grades did the school go up to?
AK: Eight.
PN: And did the children go to school for the whole year round?
AK: No, nine months, I believe.
PN: Nine months?
AK: Mm. Of course, we'd moved away from Elmo before we had any old enough to go to school.
PN: How many years did you live in Elmo?
AK: Well, we moved, lived in Elmo, two, I'll say four years. Because we moved away when our second child was a baby and not too moved away, and we moved back again. And I don't know how there the last time. We moved so many times, I can't keep old. Then we long we lived up with them.
PN: Where did you move to, when you left Elmo the first time?
AK: Moved to Nuttallburg, across the river; it was called then. But Nut tall burg was the post office. See Nuttall was on one side of the river and Browns on the other side.
PN: How many years did you live in Browns?
AK: About, I think we lived about five years over there. Then we moved away from there and moved down here to Michigan. Then we moved from there and we moved, 1 guess you would still call it Grayden right down the road there a piece. And our house burnt then. Then we moved from there back to Nut tall burg. I done a lot of moving, didn't I? [laughs] Then we moved back from Nuttallburg to Lansing; moved back to Nuttallburg again. Then we moved from there to Edmond, and from Edmond to here where I'm living now.
PN: So this is Lansing post office, but it's Ames Heights?
AK: Yea, uh huh, yea. Yes, did you notice the sign on the road as you come? Yes, this is what they call Ames Heights; I don't know why.
PN: When you were talking about the church In Elmo, what kind of a church was that, a Baptist church?
AK: Well, a Baptist and a community. They had different, just different preachers preach. When I went, it was Freewill Baptist.
PN: In the twenties, when you were living in Elmo were there any Black people living in that town then?
AK: It wasn't allowed, they didn't allow them even to stop.
PN: Really? Yea was that, cause down in Nuttall, or Nuttallburg, there were a lot of Black miners working there, weren't there?
AK: Mm, yea, uh huh, yea.
PN: What was that, was that the policy of the different coal companies or something?
AK: Well yes, I guess so. I don't really know, but I do know that there was colored people lived at Fayette. And then 1 guess there was at now I'm talking about while lived down there — I know there was colored people lived at Fayette. And as far as I know, didn't any live at, yes they did too, one or two families lived at Michigan. And then there was Elmo that didn't allow any men to work there. And so that was, there wasn't any other mines working at that time to; I don't know on down the river, I don't think that there was any at Hawks Nest at that time either .
PN: Were there many people from Europe, like Hungarians, or Polish people, or Italians?
AK: No, I don't think there was, far as I know.
PN: In Elmo and Michigan, did they have any coke ovens there, or was it
AK: Elmo had coke ovens.
PN: It did?
AK: Mm.
PN: Do you remember how many ovens were working there?
AK: No, I don't. Well after I went there, they didn't even use them anymore. But [the] coke ovens was still there.
PN: They were still standing there? [in 1925]
AK: Still there [in 1980] as far as I know.
PN: Were the homes painted when you lived there?
AK: Some of them were, and some wasn't.
PN: What, some would just be the wood?
AK: Yes, just plain wood with no paint on.
PN: When you looked at the inside of the homes, did people often have wallpaper on the walls?
AK: Mostly yea, they had wallpaper. And if they didn't, they was painted.
PN: Where did people buy their furniture from?
AK: Well, from the coal company, some of them. And some of them went to Montgomery to the Elk Furniture Company, and different places. They, we bought part of ours from the company, and part from the different stores.
PN: What did you do for recreation, or fun, or entertainment when you lived in Elmo?
AK: Well, they had dances. But I never went to their dances; I didn’t believe in it and never was allowed to go to dances or anything like that. So I didn't take it up, and I don't yet. But they had dances. And up at Winona, let me see, I 'm getting both my places I don't know, down to Elmo what else they done besides going to dances. I know they didn't have any movies, probably went to Fayetteville, those that wanted to go.
PN: Where would they hold the dances?
AK: In different people's houses. Then on, you know, holidays, they'd go different places. My great uncle, yea, my great uncle had a stage that he had dances on on the Fourth of July and…
PN: Really?
AK: Uh huh; but it wasn't down to Elmo, but people from Elmo come up there.
PN: Where, to Fayetteville?
AK: No, not, the hollow was down this, right down that road there. Of course, you couldn't see no sign of it now. The woods is all growed over and everything.
PN: Where was that hall [I misunderstood her], in Ames?
AK: No the hall, it wasn't a hall, it was just a stage. No, it was right down this road, on down. And then the coal companies had houses here on the mountain too. And of course, the men had to walk down the mountain and walk back up. My father did.
PN: How far was that to walk?
AK: Well, I couldn't tell you. But I would say, well, when he lived down there, where I 'm telling you I was born and raised, I'd say he walked a mile up till he hit this road. Then he cut, went down the mountain again, cut off right down that way up on the mountain — I'll bet you'll have a big laugh at all this talk I 'm saying, trying to explain. But and then when he went to Elmo, he had to go down the cliffs. And there was some, some place in the cliffside just like stair steps, and we called it the Indian Stairs. So they walked up that for a while, and then they nailed a ladder that they put railings on, then they come up that, up and down. So I'd say it was at least three miles down there. And when he worked at Elmo, it was about the same. I 'm talking about Elmo altogether, I think.
PN: Were those stairs built by somebody, or were they just naturally there?
AK: It was natural.
PN: It was natural?
AK: It was natural, just like it was hewed down in the rock, and they called it the Indian Stairs. And of course when he worked at Gaymont, that was a long piece farther, and they had to climb the mountain down of a morning, back up of an evening. It was always he left before daylight, and didn't get back till after dark. So we hardly ever seen our fathers, only on Sunday, when I was just a little girl growing up.
PN: It was Kaymoor, he was working?
AK: No, he never did work at Kaymoor.
PN: Where did you say he was working that was such a distance?
AK: At Sunnyside.
PN: Oh Sunnyside. Were you living down here?
AK: I 'm talking about my father now, working at Sunnyside . My husband worked there too, but not after we was married.
PN: When you lived in Elmo, you know, was moonshine or any alcoholic…
AK: Oh yes, flowed like water. [laughs]
PN: Did people make it right there?
AK: Yes, when they could hide, they did. Of course, they hide in the woods.
PN: So other than the houses, the only buildings were what — a company store, a school, and a church?
AK: As far as I, a company store, a school, and a church.
PN: If you wanted to travel somewhere, how did you go?
AK: We went on the train.
PN: Did you travel much up and down the river?
AK: I didn't, but I guess other people did, because I didn't have any reason to go anywhere like that.
PN: Where would they go?
AK: To Montgomery and Hawks Nest. And they'd go down to Hawks Nest, and then go up to Ansted. And then they'd go to Montgomery to do their shopping. Charleston, if they wanted to go anywhere like that, they always had to go on the train.
PN: Did the women do things like dye clothing or make soap or anything at that time?
AK: No, I don't think so, not that I know about.
PN: Did anybody have a car?
AK: Yes, a few, just a mighty few.
PN: Was there a road you could get to Elmo?
AK: Oh yes, mm.
PN: Where did that road go?
AK: Just went to Elmo, and that was where. That was the end of the road.
PN: Did it come from up here on the mountain? I guess, it come from Lansing. Turned off up to Lansing and went down, then it went down the mountain, and then made another turn and went down. Then there used to be a road that the cars could go right straight across the road right down there, and then it turned off and went down the mountain. But you can't hardly walk down it now, it's so bad.
PN: Did many of the women there buy their own clothing, or buy their clothing, or did they make their own clothing?
AK: Well, I'd say they bought some, probably they made most of them. Most of them that I knew did anyhow.
PN: Did they use sewing machines, or do it all by hand?
AK: No, sewing machines. Some of them might have sewed by hand, I don't know, but I do know they had sewing machines.
PN: Did any of the men play baseball on baseball teams there?
AK: They didn't have any down right in the town. They came up here on the mountain to different ball games. They had ball games at Lansing, but they didn't have any ball field down in the town.
PN: Did you have a radio when you lived there, at Elmo?
AK: Not at first, but we was the first ones that did have one. When they first started, we was the first ones in the town that had a radio. Of course, we had plenty of company too.
PN: When did you buy that - the radio?
AK: I really don't know. I think my husband just bought it from some man he knew. I know he didn't buy it from the store, but I don't know who the man was.
PN: What types of programs did you listen to back then?
AK: Well what we call soap operas now stories like that. And then they had all kind of music. And that's about it, as far as I remember.
PN: What did the streets look like in Elmo?
AK: They didn't have any. They j us t had plain roads, paths, paths up and down the hills from one house to the other one, and then of course the road just cleared the last houses.
PN: So if people drove a car, they'd just drive along the one main road, and then they'd have to leave the road, and sometimes to get to a house to walk up a path.
AK: Yea, they had to walk a path to get the houses. Of course, some of the houses was built right along the edge of the road, just like these are [in Ames Heights today]. And there was some was off, and didn't have any road to drive the cars on that part.
PN: At the company store, did you use scrip to buy food?
AK: Mm, yea, you used scrip.
PN: How could you arrange for credit at the store If you, was that hard?
AK: No, not really. If you needed credit, why you just went and told them and they picked it up. And then you paid by the month, or the, yea the month, I would guess.
PN: Was that for food or for...
AK: No, for clothing and furniture. No, we paid for our food when we bought it. We just went and cut out scrip like you had money, you know. Go to office window and tell them how much you needed, and they give you that much, and it's just the same as money.
PN: And then you go buy food with that?
AK: If you wanted, you could buy clothes with it too, if you wanted to.
PN: So if you bought something like a chair, or something that was more expensive, you could pay for that over a few months?
AK: You could if you wanted to.
PN: Did you can any vegetables or preserve any meats when you were living there?
AK: I did; I didn't can much, because see all I had, you know, just starting, why you didn't have much like you did [later]. But other people canned too. I didn't buy stuff, cause I always been, you know, been used to it. My mother always canned, and made apple butter.
PX: you were living in Elmo, or Browns, or some of the other towns, did the women in the towns ever have jobs of any kind?
AK: No, it wasn't even thought about women going working then. Of course, they took in laundry for different people, and maybe went and cleaned house for somebody. But I mean, just go out on a job. They would have never thought of a thing like that.
PN: They wouldn’t?
AK: Nooo.
PN: Was there any types of jobs available for them if they wanted to, or just nobody ever…
AK: Probably was, but I 'm telling you I can't even remember going to a store with a woman working in it.
PN: Did any women ever think of being coal miners like they are today?
AK: Nooo. Never would have dreamed of anything like that. I don't think it's right now, either.
PN: After you were married, about that time in the twenties and thirties, what age would the young boys or men begin going into mines then? As early as when your husband did?
AR: No, they was older than that. Well, let me see now, when we was married, I 'd say, maybe 18. But my brother started when he was 13, and the rest of them then, they was around 16. But they was all working before I was married.
PN: Was there any union for miners in these towns when you were first married?
AK: Yea, or was there? Yes, there was. Yes, there was a union.
PN: Did people talk about the United Mine Workers very much, or do you remember anything about that?
AK: No, I don't.
PN: Do you know if the coke—oven workers belonged to the UMW, or did they belong to another union?
AK: No, I’d suppose they belonged to the UMW, if they was burning the coke at that time. I don't know. See, like I said, I never went anywhere. So when I was married and went down there, I do know the coke ovens wasn't running then. So that was 1925; so I don't know when they had run before.
PN: When the churches had meetings, when did they have meetings and services during the week?
AK: As far as I know, I don't think they had any on through the week, just on Sunday.
PN: Just on Sunday?
AK: On Sunday, uh huh, there was Sunday School and there was Sunday services on Sunday. And as far as I know, I can't remember ever going to church through the week.
PN: They didn't have mid—week prayer meetings?
AK: No, I don't believe they did, I don't believe they did. They could have, and I just don't remember.
PN: Did the churches ever run like, pot—luck suppers or any social gatherings too?
AK: Yes they did that, uh huh.
PN: So if you went to church on a Sunday, when would you go and how long would you stay at the church?
AK: Well, an hour, like they do now.
PN: Did you go back in the afternoons for a dinner or something sometimes?
AK: No, we didn't go back in the afternoon. All I knew, they had what they called box suppers at night.
PN: Would most people that lived in a town like Elmo go to the suppers at the church?
AK: Yes, I think so, I think they did.
PN: Were there any union halls in any of the towns that you lived in that you can remember?
AK: No, not that I remember; I'm sure there wasn't.
PN: I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about Browns too?
AK: OK.
PN: When did you live there?
AK: I lived there in 1931 up until 33.
PN: Then you moved back there later a couple of times, you said?
AK: Moved from there to Grayden, and we stayed there three years, and our house burned. Then we moved to Nuttallburg.
PN: And Nuttallburg Is the same as Browns?
AK: No, there's two different companies. Same post office, but two different companies. See, Browns was on one side of the river. They called it South Nuttall, is what they called it. But there wasn't any post office over there. And then on the other side was Nuttallburg.
PN: And you lived in both towns?
AK: I had lived in both towns, uh huh, different times .
PN: Which was bigger?
AK: Oh Nuttallburg was bigger.
PN: Much bigger?
AK: Uh huh.
PN: Was there a bridge connecting the two towns?
AK: Mm, yea.
PN: When was that built?
AK: Oh, I wouldn't have no idea.
PN: When you lived in Browns in 1931, '32, and ' 33, how many people lived in Browns then?
AK: I wouldn't hardly know. I'd say probably a hundred, counting children. How many houses did they have?
AK: I don't know that either; I never did count them.
PN: Did they have a company store?
AK: Mm, they had a company store.
PN: Did they have a church and a schoolhouse there in Browns?
AK: I can't remember. No, I think the children went over to Nuttallburg to school. As far as I know, I don't know. See, I didn't have any big enough to go to school, and I just never, I don't remember anything about it. But they didn't have a church either. I believe they all went over to, on the other side of the river.
PN: What was the only post office called?
AK: Nuttallburg.
PN: And that was across the river too?
AK: Mm, yea. See, Nuttallburg was on this side of the river; Browns was on the other side .
were there any roads going into Browns?
AK: Mm, yea. Road come in from Winona to Browns. Or not to Browns, to Nuttallburg, and then you have to cross the river on the bridge, cross the bridge to go over to Browns then. But cars, they always parked on the Nuttallburg side of the river.
PN: They couldn't drive a car across the bridge?
AK: No.
PN: What kind of a bridge was it? What did it look like?
AK: It's just a bridge, and they called it a swinging bridge. Do you know what that is?
PN: Yea.
AK: That's what it was.
PN: So it was just suspended from either side of the river?
AK: Uh huh, that's right.
PN: How wide was the bridge?
AK: I don't…
PN: Could two people pass easily?
AK: Oh yes, oh yes. Probably wider than this porch. I know it was, it was wider than this porch.
PN: Oh really? So it may have been 15 or 20 feet wide?
AK: Probably, yea.
PN: What was it made out of?
AK: Wood, and rope — steel rope, of course. Once the river flooded, and it was over the bridge. And my husband was over on the — we lived at Nuttallburg then — on the Browns side, and he couldn't get home. Had to stay on the other side until the water went down.
PN: What year was that, was that back about 1931, '32; no, it must have been later?
AK: No, it was later than that. Just about that.
PN: Did people have gardens at that time in Browns?
AK: Some people did. We did. Yes, most of the people had gardens on that side because they had bigger plots of ground.
PN: When the children were at home, in these years, did they play different types of games?
AK: Yes, they played.
PN: What did they do usually, if that's not too hard a question?
AK : Well, wintertime, I don't remember them having any games like kids have now. I don't know. But summertime, of course, they got out and run, played. Boys played marbles. I can't think of anything else.
PN: Did you buy dolls for girls?
AK: Oh yes, they had dolls and their little sets of dishes. Boys had their bows and arrows and their BB guns.
PN: Did you buy them any toys like there are available today for a kid?
AK: What do you mean, bicycles and things like that? Or would you call that a toy?
PN: Well, let me ask that too? Did they have bicycles?
AK: Not that I knew anything about, they didn’t.
PN: Did they have games or anything, games they'd play on boards?
AK: Like checkers and a game they called "Fox and Goose”. I don't know if you ever heard of that or not?
PN: What was that? I’ve heard of it, but what is that?
AK: Well, I have the game here, but I wouldn't begin to know where to look for it right now. My father always made his own, and took a big piece of cardboard — square cardboard - and drew these lines. And they put, and then they used six, I believe it was 16 for geese, 16 white grains of corns for a goose. And a red one, now that's what they used - talking back to my father now - and then they played this game with it. And they had to get all the geese so they couldn't move anyway. Or they could jump over him, and just almost like checkers, but not much.
PN: How many foxes were there in the game?
AK: Only one.
PN: Just one?
AK: One. And he had to either catch all those 16 geese or, wish I knowed where my game was I could show it to you but I can't think.
PN: What did they use for the fox?
AK: A red grain of corn. That's what my father used. Now my children never had any, till just about three years ago, I found one down at the gift shop at Charleston that I bought.
PN: How many people could play that game?
AK: Two.
PN: Two?
AK: Mm.
PN: What was one person the fox, and the other person was the…
AK: Geese.
PN: Geese
AK: Mm.
PN: And either side could win, right? The geese could, could they put the fox in the corner or something?
AK: Yea, they could put him in the corner, yea.
PN: Was that a popular game?
AK: Yes It was. In wintertime, we'd, my father and his friends would sit around the fire, after they come in from work, and played that game. That's about all they done.
PN: Did children play that game too?
AK: Not when 1 was growing up, because I don't suppose they was interested in it.
PN: Did the men play card games too?
AK: They didn't at my house. They might have at other houses, but they didn't, in my home they didn't.
PN: Was there gambling associated with that usually? Did people usually bet on card games?
AK: No, they just played for fun.
PN: Just played for fun?
AK: My mother didn't even allow them in the house for fun.
PN: Did people go fishing a lot?
AK: Yes, they did.
PN: When you were living in Elmo, did your husband fish?
AK: He loved to fish, yes he did.
PN: Did you ever fish yourself?
AK: No, I never did like to.
PN: Did many women, did women fish very often?
AK: Not too many . Back then they didn't. But they 're like everything else now; they, you know, lots of women fishes now and hunts with guns and things. We never thought about such a thing.
PN: What types of fish would your husband generally catch?
AK: Well, they caught them out of the river. And there was mud cats and blue cats. They always fished in the river. They always hunted in the fall — killed rabbits and squirrels, pheasants and all kind of things.
PN: Was fish an important part of the meals, or the diet you…
AK: They was, if he caught any. He caught one once that weighed 46 pound. My brothers, they had a trot—line. I bet you don't know what I’m talking about, do you.
PN: That was a line they ran across the river?
AK: And they had a boat. And my brothers and cousins had been fishing with him for three or four days, and they hadn't caught a thing. So they got disgusted with it, the whole thing, and went home. And he went down and looked at the trot—line, and it had that big fish on the line.
PN: What kind of fish was that?
AK: That was a mud cat.
PN: A mud cat?
AK: Mm. His head was about that wide, yea, about that wide.
PN: What, about a foot wide?
AK: About a foot wide. Oh, it was a big thing.
PN: You know the hooks on the trot—lines, did they hang on the bottom, or were they in the, you know, higher up in the water?
AK: Oh they had to be down in the water.
PN: Were they way at the bottom of the river, or at different heights?
AK: Well, I don't know, cause I never went fishing with him, but I suppose that they put a weight on each hook, and let it hang into the water.
PN: They would string that from one side to the other, wouldn't they?
AK: Mm.
PN: What did they use for bait?
AK: They used worms and they made what they called “doughballs" - they'd ball up, make dough right stiff and ball it up and dry it. And they used that. And pieces of fatback bacon, and just a lot of things they used. That's all I can think of right now.
PN: When your husband hunted in the fall, did the things that he caught hunting, was that an important part of your diet then?
AR: Well, not that important. Of course, we ate it of course, and cooked it and everything. He wouldn't have went hunting if he hadn't wanted to have the game. Myself, I didn't care for wild game myself, but he did.
PN: If you bought meat at the company store, what types of meat would you usually buy?
AK: Well, they had the same as any. They had pork — different kinds, and chicken, and they had eggs. We had anything that they have now.
PN: Did you have a refrigerator or an icebox of any kind?
AK: I didn't.
PN: But they did at the company store, wouldn't they?
AK: Oh yes, they had it at the company store. I suppose it was just a
plain old icebox; I know they didn't, wouldn't have had a refrigerator like we, or freezers like we have now.
PN: So you could go, you know, if you wanted to serve meat, would you usually buy it that day at the store and take it home?
AK: Usually, that day, uh huh. Cause see, well, I lived right close to the store, and we went to the store every morning.
PN: You did?
AK: That's what us women done for one thing — all meet at the store and compare how smart our children was, and what they done and said the day before. [laughs]
PN: Did you usually spend an hour or two talking?
AK: Oh no, we’d just get our groceries and go home. Of course, some of us would have to wait while the rest of us was getting waited on, and everything. See, we didn't go and pick up our stuff ourself like they do now; we had to tell the clerk, and he'd go get what we wanted. Seems funny to sit here and think about, back about it. And like if you wanted a, if you wanted some pork chop, you'd go and say, "Well, I want fifty cents worth of pork chop." And he'd go and weigh you out fifty cents worth of pork chop.
PN: Was that the policy or something? He'd would get the amount you wanted?
AK: Mm. Like if you wanted, of course, they didn't have it loose; they had to weigh it out theirselves, it was already In pound packages, and so if you wanted to buy a pound, you got a pound. They didn't have ten ounces or something like that, like we have now.
PN: When you got back from the store In the morning, what did you usually do during the rest of the day?
AK: Well, it took all of our time to do our homework. Of course, we had our house to clean, and dishes to wash; and after our children was big enough to go to school, we always had a hot lunch for ‘em. And then they'd come eat their lunch and go back to school. And then we'd get supper. And we had our laundry to do on the washboard. [laughs]
PN: Did you wash clothes in the river, ever?
AK: No, never was that hard up. [laughs]
PN: I was wondering if that was easier, or something.
AK: Oh no. We had our old washtubs and our washboard, and hang it out on the line to dry.
PN: What time did you usually get up in the morning, and when did you go to bed?
AK: I always got up at five o clock. And just go to bed when I took a notion to go.
PN: Did you generally go about eight or nine o'clock at night, or later?
AK: No, about eight or nine. And the women they would a, when I was a girl growing up, getting back to when I was a girl — I can remember things that happened then better than I can later. Our mothers, they would get together and they'd stir off big old kettles of apple butter. Did you ever see a kettle of apple butter stirred on? And they'd go to each others houses, and help peel apples, and help stir the apple butter off, and then go to the next place. And they'd do that till they got all their apple butter made up for the winter. And us kids, after we growed up big enough to be interested in things like that, we'd have apple—peelings and bean—stringings — string the beans and peel the apples at night.
[End of Tape]
Oral History Project - Kinder, Harold 1980
Landisburg, Lumbering, Babcock Lumber Company, Meadow River Lumber Company, logging camps from Landisburg to Danese
P N: Mr. Kinder, maybe you could start off by mentioning a little bit about -when you were born, and where you grew up.
HR: Yes, 1 was born October the fourth, 1914 at Vanceburg, Kentucky.
My father came up to Landisburg, which is about eight miles north of Sewell, in 1915, and worked part of the summer. And then he came back to Vanceburg, Kentucky; and at that time, I was about two years old . This would have been in the, he came back and* got my mother and one other brother; that's all, that included all of the family at that time. And we caught the train from Vanceburg up to Sewell; and he told me that he and my mother carried us two children —— in other words, my brother and I —— about eight or ten miles from Sewell, on the river, up to this Landisburg location which is, which was a large lumber camp, owned and operated by the Babcock Lumber Company out of Pennsylvania.
PN: What was your father doing? Was he working…
HR: Yes, he was working there. He was driving team, a team of horses, in other words, logging, so to speak. You know, hauling logs out of the woods into the mill to be cut up into lumber.
PN: Where was the mill?
HK: The mill was at Landisburg, which is about eight miles north of Sewell. They had a little railroad line that came up that they used to haul the lumber back down to the C&O Railroad at Sewell, you know, put it on the main line. And he came, as I was saying, they walked up that, this little spur line up, which is seven or eight miles, to Landisburg and he had rented a house. The Babcock Lumber Company were building houses there for the men, their employees, to live in. And he rented a house, and we started residing there in 1916. As they cut the timber in and around Landisburg, they moved eastward about 20 or 25 miles to keep cutting the logs, you know, because you run out of the timber. And then they'd have to keep moving. And they had those camps, what they called lumber camps. And they would number those camps and call them, run them in sequence, you know, one through ten. And he would move from one of those camps to the other as they moved, progressed through eastward out to pick up the logs and then haul them back. They had a, one of these, what they call these little trains, a small train with a sort of a flat bed on it, I mean the cars, they used the old steam engines. They were small, they wasn't like they used on the C&O Railroad; they were small, maybe one—fifth as big as the regular C&O, what they called the O'Malleys, you know, that hauled the coal on the main C&O Railroad. These were small.
PN: They were called Malleys?
HK: No, they were called, some called them “dinkeys”.
PN: These are the little ones you're talking about?
HR: Yea. And they were made to where they could go out on a little spur line; the tracks weren't very solid and the road bed wasn't as good, so they had to use something lighter, you know. But they had fairly good success with them. Then my father cut logs, or made cross—ties for the railroad. This lumber company cut those. And he would use the, what they called the old broad axe, something where you could score the side of a log, and square it off almost as, you know, next to what a saw mill would cut it, and square the length, or position you might say [sic] . And he worked, well, he started in 1916 and worked there until that mill ceased, partly ceased operations in about 1923 or 1924.
PN: You and your family lived in Landisburg?
HK: No, we moved out of Landisburg into these camps.
PN: Oh, the whole family moved?
HK: Yea, we moved closer to the work. See, you would get a long ways from work, and it was hard to get to and from work at that time. There wasn't any automobiles or anything, so you either stayed close to the job or you had to do a lot of walking.
PN: In these camps, the Babcock Lumber Company would build…
HR: More. or less what they called “shanties”.
PN: I was going to ask you what they looked like.
HR: Little wooden shanties, just a rough two— or three—room building, built out of, most of the time, just green lumber sawed from the mill; it wasn't seasoned lumber.
PN: Just green lumber?
HR: Just green lumber.
PN: And there were two or three rooms in these houses.
HR: Yes, they built two or three, or in some cases, four. It depended on the size of the family that needed to live in [sic].
PN: What did you use the different rooms for?
HK: One was a kitchen. And then you had to have a bedroom naturally.
And if you wanted to call it a living room at that time, you could, but. Generally three, three rooms was what they referred to as a shanty. That's the old expression for just, you know, a roughly—built small building.
PN: Would the children usually sleep in the living room?
HK: Yes, they generally, as a general rule, there wasn't any such thing even. We burnt wood, used the old wood stoves at that time. We always used the limbs and things that were, you know, we were picking limbs off the trees, off the logs, so to speak. Then we'd take an axe, and cut that up, and we used the old—time wood stoves, little small, smaller types.
It was not the large type. At that time, it's a little small wood stove, very small. Of course, you know at that time it kept you pretty busy keeping wood in there to keep everything going. Wood burn up real fast, you know. It didn't have the, any draft system much on t ern like these new stoves we have now, the wood stoves you know. They kind of bottle them up, you know, and hold the heat in. But you couldn't do that; it all comes out at one time, you know. Most of the time you either had too much heat or not quite enough with a wood stove, wood—burning stove.
PN: you were talking about the camps moving, you said they moved about 20 miles east of Landisburg. What was the furthest point? Is there any town still standing?
HR: No, they wouldn't; there's one place out near where these campsites were; it was called Danese. You know where that is, Danese. Now that was one of the locations that's still around, Danese.
PN: Was that originally a lumber camp?
HR: No, it was just a little, a sort of a community or village, grown up, you know, over a period of time, not very large.
PN: It wasn't connected with coal or lumber particularly?
HK: No, just a rural, what they say, a rural district.
PN: None of these camps would still be around in any way, would they?
HR: No, no, no. I would think probably that the camps didn't stand long because the wooden buildings after, not any important use for them. Then they would be torn down sometimes, moved, and rebuilt again, you know, sold to the employee after everything's over with. So I’d say almost for sure there wouldn't be any trace at all of any of the old camps.
PN: Do you remember what you did for fun or recreation when you were living in the camps?
HR: Well, we, about the only recreation that you had was just to get out and run, do a lot of walking. One of the things that kept us fairly busy was, through the summer months, was picking fruit, blackberries, and all types of fruit you know, wild fruit that grew out, especially black— berries. Of course in the winter time, we used the old sleds to sleigh ride. That was practically all the winter sport that we had at that time was sleigh riding.
PN: Did your father get to grow a garden when you lived in these camps?
HK: Oh yes, my mother, she was very frugal, and she would always tend the garden. He didn't have much time; my mother especially took interest in the garden. One thing I can remember very vividly was the fact that my brother next to me, which is about, approximately two years younger than I was at that time, she’d get us out and make us hoe the garden. And then we would, through the summertime, we always kept a cow or two, and my mother always churned, made her own butter. And through the summer, we would deliver into the, some of the camps around, some of the smaller places there, like Landisburg, you know, the main part down there where the houses were built to start with. People would buy the milk and vegetables out of the garden; you could take corn on the cob, tomatoes, cabbage, and sell it, and in turn, take that money and buy groceries.
PN: You would sell in Landisburg?
HR: Landisburg was a fairly good—sized camp at that time. I would think probably, I don’t know the exact amount of houses that were built there starting in about, well, I think, this lumber company, as I understood it, my father told me, started somewhere around about 1908. So they'd been in existence something like maybe six or seven years before he came in there and started working for them.
PN: How many houses were there would say?
HR: I would say that there was approximately 30, or between 30 and 40 houses all together.
PN: In these little lumber camps, how many shanties would be there?
HR: In most cases you wouldn’t have over about five, six, or maybe, possibly could be ten. But they were limited. They didn't build them, they didn't have that much need because a crew of men that was working in the woods would generally take about, would come to about six or seven families. So each one would have his family at that particular, as close to the job as he could be. So in those little camps I was talking about, they were somewhere between, l t d say, five and ten shanties around each location.
PN: Did they have a foreman in each of these camps.
HK: Yes, yes, they had a foreman. They had a general office and a general superintendant. And then they had, what you’d call, might refer to as a section foreman under, at each camp, who was responsible to the general foreman.
PN: And the general foreman would be in Landisburg?
HK: Yes, his office was at Landisburg, right.
PN: If you went from one of the camps down to Landisburg, would you walk, or how would you get there?
HR: No, most of the time you would ride the train, so to speak. You was limited to a certain extent; you just couldn't catch a train, one of those trains that haul logs, you know. I t m talking about the ones that came up there; it wasn't a regular passenger train; it was just a, what you r d say, just the engine with the cars. Another thing that is probably almost for— gotten was what they called the t 'wheel car." They had a car on there that had, something on the order of a bicycle. It wasn’t that either. It was called a hand car; it had levers on it, and you would pull, sort of like a sprocket. And you could propel yourself with those wheels, mostly referred to, more so than anything else, hand cars they called them. They had steel wheels on them. And they were a little bit rough to, if you had much of a grade, sort of like riding a bicycle. As long as we’re going down hill, fine; but up hill, a little bit disadvantage to you. But now, a lot of the men could have permission to get those cars; the lumber company had those cars. And some of the men that needed to go to work, to and from, they just loaned them out to them, and they were responsible naturally. The only thing about the hand car, you used the main railroad, the track, so to speak. And if you'd meet a train or something, you had to get off. You had to watch pretty fair, close schedule on it, because you certainly had to get out of the way of that train. And that t s another reason that they weren't used as much as you would think, because of that. But they sure did beat walking quite a bit, you know, a lot faster, especially on level ground or downgrade.
PN: Did people, when they lived in the camps, go to church much?
HR: No. They didn't, because basically there wasn't any churches around as you moved out from, now there was one church, as I remember, only one church at the, in the main part of the lumber camp in Landisburg. But as you moved out, maybe 15 or 20 miles away from the main lumber camp, there wasn't any churches built. Naturally nobody had time much to build them; they was moving from one location to another. And for that reason, there wasn’t, most of the teaching that went on, my mother she read Bible quite a bit. And she liked singing, and we started out together and sang quite a bit, you know, the old Gospel songs, the religious songs, the old—time songs. My father, he was pretty much interested in singing, you know, and of course, as we grew up, my brothers the three of us we formed a band, a string band. And we played around, over parts of the country later on, on up in the thirties. We moved around, and had a little band you know, and go around to what they called, some of the old social gatherings around the old rural districts, out in the farm country, you know. And we had, well, I called it a real good time.
PN: What did you play?
HK: My brother played the violin, or the fiddle; I played guitar; and I had another brother that played the mandolin. They all, they went pretty well together, you know.
PN: What did you sing, mainly gospel songs, or country music?
HK: Well, we refer to it now as bluegrass; but that wasn't the title at that time. It was just what you'd call good old country music; nothing fancy. Most of it was the old gospel songs. There wasn't any such thing as, you know, all your other types of music that you have now, like your rock 'n’ roll and all that type. That wasn't nothin'; that wasn't in style yet. So you just had one, just one type of music at that time, that was just what you'd say good old fashioned country music, string music.
PN: Where did you learn to play, when you were growing up?
HK: When we were growing up. My father owned a harp, a French harp. He was fairly good on it. You say anybody could play a French harp, but that's a little bit out of play a guitar; he played You say anybody could line, because there‘s a whole lot of people that thinks they can. If you really can play a harp, just like everything else, there's a certain amount of talent, you know, that has to come. You have to have some practice, and then some people are talented to it. But you know the old harp is about gone. And I'll tell you another type music we had at that time was the Jew's harp. Do you know about that?
PN: Yea, I’ve seen them.
HK: It's sort of a wind, I'd think it'd be classed as a wind instrument. But it was a little dull; it didn't have the sharp tones in music, like all the other type of music a little bit more dull. But nevertheless, it was a type music that was fairly common at that time.
PN: Where did your father get the French harp that he played?
HK: He generally ordered them, at that time, from the Sears and Roebuck, out of the old Sears and Roebuck catalog.
PN: Is that you got the mandolin, the fiddle, and the guitar that you and your brothers played too?
HR: The first guitar that we bought was in 1927, and we paid about $5.95 for it. We ordered from one of the mail—order houses. I T m not sure whether it was Speigel, or some of the other mail—order houses at that time that carried those guitars. And the violin, the same way; bought it through, about everything at that time was ordered through mail—order houses. Anything like that, musical instruments or anything, you didn't see them in the store anywhere. Nobody stocked them at that time. Most of the stores at that time were grocery stores and some clothing; that's about all they carried in the stores. There wasn’t anything like, like the modern things like we have now, you know, that you go to the store and buy. Mostly when you went to the store, you bought groceries and clothes, and that was it.
PN: Let me ask you another question about the lumber camps. Were most of the people that worked there, were there many immigrants that came in?
HR: No, they seemed, that was the type work that you didn't seem to have too many of the immigrants or different nationalities coming in like you had around the coal mines. Now the coal mines were the type work that they brought in all types of people, different nationalities, but the lumber business seemed to be sort of a, it was more or less of a country profession. And the people that came into these lumber camps were mostly farmers, had been reared on a farm.
PN: Oh really?
HK: Uh, huh. And I think that explains why you didn’t have too many different types of nationalities of people that came into the coal mines, you know. So it was, and most of the time the people that worked in these lumber camps sort of came in from one locality. For instance, out of Kentucky, there was several people migrated out of Kentucky, Vanceburg, right below Ashland, you know, it's not very far down the river, came up there with my father. One person would go out and find a place where there was work like that and then he'd call back, or not call back, but get back to 'em —at that time telephone were almost, you know, almost nil. But they'd get word and, of course, they'd start coming in, these people that lived in a community. Just like Vanceburg; I would say probably there was maybe ten or 15 people that worked on that, in that lumber camp that came out of the same region that my father did. Because if there was an opportunity, at that time, you found a job, that was something unusual. You take a lumber camp just starting up. It sounds a little bit out of line now to say that; it would be. But at that time, it was a very common thing for people to kind of move in the direction where, they found out where a new location was starting.
PN: Was Vanceburg a farming area?
HK: It’s a little railroad town on, just on the Ohio River, almost, well not exactly opposite from Portsmouth, Ohio . But Portsmouth's on the Ohio side and Vanceburg was on the Kentucky side. It was more or less of a little, I don't know just what you would call it today, they raised tobacco in there quite a bit in Kentucky, around in there. And they brought it in there to ship it out, move it on by rail, which was about the only way you could get anything moved at that time.
PN: Did most of the other people that worked in the lumber camp come from places like Kentucky and West Virginia?
HR: Yes, most of them from rural districts, mostly farming, because they had cut, a lot of them drove team, horses, you know. There was a lot of horses being used to move these cross ties that they built for the rail— roads. They cut ‘em way out in the country, and then haul them in on a wagon to the station, where they could pick them up and take them on down where they were laying new road beds, when the C&O was building some of their, you know, they kept adding on. Of course, the main C&O line was laid long before I 'm talking about, but they kept adding on spur lines, you know, and double, some places they had double lines, and these yards, where they stocked their coal, you know, storage.
PN: Did they cut timbers for coal mines too?
HR: He did, my father cut timber for the coal mines starting in 1925 and 26, on up till about 1930, when the big Depression hit. He cut mine posts mostly, what, you know, they set under the slate, to keep slate from falling in the mines. That was basically what the timber was used for when you took it to the mines. And there was a lot of it used at that time.
PN: You said that the Babcock Lumber shut down in 1923?
HK: Yes approximately, it ceased operation there somewhere along about '23 or ’24.
PN: What happened then? Did your father move to another lumber camp?
HK: No, there wasn't but one other big lumber camp that he, let's see, I t m trying to think of the, Meadow River Lumber Company —— that was another big lumber company, on up at Rainelle, West Virginia. Do you know where Rainelle is?
PN: Yes.
HK: Well now, that was a bigger lumber camp than the one at Landisburg. But he more or less got away from the lumber business, driving team, and so forth, which was associated with this type work, and went mostly to the farm. Never did own a farm, but just rented, or leased, or sharecropped. We had a pretty rough time, never owned anything. And he was a good worker; my father was a real hard worker. You can’t accomplish much when you are on a farm. You never have a payday coming in. You r re always sure of something to eat. It’s, it was a good life, no doubt about that. It gives you the basics of the good part of anybody's life, I think, if you've gone through that. I really think that. Nobody'd go back to it now; the only way you go back to the farm, is have machinery. And we don't have much of that type farming in this part of the country now.
PN: Where were the farm that your father worked at? Mainly in Fayette County?
HK: Fayette. Just around in a radius of probably, oh maybe, 40 miles.
PN: And he worked on farms until he finally retired?
HK Yes , he just followed that work; course we got a lot of work too, all the boys. I had five brothers and two sisters. And we all worked right along with him, and worked hard. My mother was a good manager, and we got by. Came out of it, didn't have everything we wanted, but we were always satisfied. I mean as far as, nobody's ever satisfied, I don't think, to the extent that you get everything you want. But what I'm talking about is the basic part of a let-son's life. You get satisfaction when you're working on a farm and, like I say, grow your own food. The only bad thing about it —— there's not any payday ever coming in every two weeks or every month.
PN: Did your father ever work in the coal mines?
HK: He started to work in 1922 at Bellwood. And that was during the time when one of the big strikes came on.
PN: Oh yea, in 1922.
HK: Uh huh. And he worked about six weeks; the strike came on, and naturally everything shut down and he just got away from it. I guess it's a good thing he did because he lived to be 86 years old. And he 'd probably be living right now; he's been dead five years; he got hit by an automobile crossing the road. He had fairly good health for his age —— 86; he was getting around good.
PN: Where is Bellwood?
HK: Bellwood's near Rainelle; it's about, probably eight or ten miles south— east of Rainelle. It was a big operation there at one time —— the Peabody Coal Company, which was one of the larger ones in the business at that time it was originally started over there.
PN: I didn't know it was there. It's the biggest today still.
HR: Yes, they were in there, they were in there at Bellwood.
PN: Were many of the mines union at that time?
HK: No, that was what, that was basically, that's what the strike was over. And they still didn't gain anything at that time. They didn't gain anything in their striking up till about 1932 or 33. That's when they got their union. They never could come up with anything very substantial until 1932 or 33. You know, remember when they started organizing and got their union started.
PN: When the lumber camps were working, was there any type of union that people that worked there belonged to?
HK: No, never. No union. No sir, no union, they were glad to get the job. They were paid fairly well, I suppose, at that time. I heard my father talk about three dollars, three dollars a day at that time. Course, that was fairly good wages, three dollars a day at that time. Top wages at that time was around three dollars.
PN: Was that more than the miners were paid at the time?
HR: As I understand, the way the miners that I had talked to later on, probably was in some ways more than what the miner was earning, because the amount of work the miner put in. Sometimes, he would go in and be away from home from the time he went to work till he got back maybe 18 hours. You figure that up, the person working in the lumber business at that time, they generally put in about ten hours.
PN: Ten hours?
HK: Yes. Eight hours didn’t mean anything at that time; you didn't pay any attention to that. It was just a matter of getting in a day! s work. They called it a day's work. I mean ten hours was what was considered a good day's work.
PN: In the lumber camps, did people work longer in the summer than in the winter? And how was the work in the winter? Pretty rough?
HK: Oh, it was. Real rough. You know, you wonder how they went out in these woods and used the crosscut saws. Now there wasn’t any such thing as a chainsaw. And cut those logs, that timber in that heavy snow. They didn't slow down for the weather very much. It could get bad enough, you know, to stop anybody; you know if the weather gets bad enough, it can stop anything or anybody. But generally speaking, they didn't pay any attention to it. They were toughened into it; they'd just get up and go right on, and just seemed to be the way of life. You get toughened into things, you know, you just, what you have to do you can do it fairly well There's a lot of things you think you can't do, but there's a whole lot of things you can do when you have to.
PN: Did you ever work in the lumber industry itself? Or have you ever worked in the coal mines?
HK: No, I never did. I just worked on a farm with my father. I never had any trade of any kind. I never worked in the coal mines. When I got out of high school in 19, graduated in '35, I would have gone in the mines if I could have gotten a job. But I couldn't get a job. My father—in—law was —— my future father—in—law at that time tried to get me on. You know, if you got a job in the mines, you had to have somebody to help you, to recommend you and take you in with him, you see. But at that time, the mines, everything was so bad right in the middle of the Depression, you might say, you couldn't do much with it. The first job I had was a paper route. It sounds a little bit off key for me to tell you this, but I bought a job. I gave a, I had a ‘32 model Chevrolet car. And I couldn't buy tires for it, I couldn't buy gas, it wasn't doing me any good, so I gave it to the boy that had this paper route. There was four or five other people wanting it. It wasn't like just walking off and quit— ting and somebody take it. If you got hold of a job then, it was worth something to you. And I took it over in 36; I started this paper route in '36.
PN: In Fayette County?
PN: Where did you graduate from high school?
HK: At Nuttall. Nuttall High School. Old Lookout. You 've heard of it?
PN: There was a high school right in Nuttall?
HK: It had been there quite a little while before I started. I think the school may have started somewhere about '27 or '28, the best that I could find out. Some of the old teachers that were there had been there maybe six, seven, or eight years before I started. So I would assume that the school was probably created somewhere about 1927 or '28.
PN: What kind of a town was Nuttall?
HK: It was close to the coal mining business. Winona. It was down the road about two miles; a great big coal camp. I mean it stretched out quite a bit. And then right on below there, getting on down into below the old Sewell country, we 're talking about, down on the C&O railroad , you had Nuttallburg.
PN: There was Nuttall and there was Nuttallburg?
HK: This Nut tall High School, that's at Lookout. Lookout was the name of the little place where Nuttall was, where Nutta11 High School was. As far as I know, the name Nut tall came from this Englishman that came over from England and put this coal mining operation in at Nuttallburg. You 've heard of Nuttallburg? Well, I suppose you know about where it is, don 't you? It's on below Sewell quite a bit, way on down the river. That flourished in there for quite a while, the coal business around there. The old man Dave Boone had part of those holdings in there at that time. I might say this, it might be a little bit interesting. When I was carrying those newspapers, I was going down to Chimney Corner picking those up. You know where Chinmey Corner is?
PN: Toward Ansted?
HR: Below Ansted. Old man Dave lived there at Lookout at that time. He was an old gentlemen, probably up around in his seventies, probably about 75 at that time. And he was riding down to Ansted; he had some relatives living down there. And he told me that at one time that he owned all of the Hawk's Nest State Park area and had title to it. And this Depression came on, and the real estate taxes at that time were about a dollar an acre. And he had 300,000 acres, and he was planning on developing that park and putting an aerial tramway across there, which they finally done. But he told me that the state took that for delinquent taxes. He couldn't, no way he could come up with it. He lost his coal business; his coal business went down on him. Everything in the 1930s went down real bad.
PN: David Boone?
HK: Uh huh. David Boone. Oh he was a huge man, almost, well typical English you know. He was a real nice old fellow to talk to. He was telling me, you know, the misfortunes you can have. One time he was king in that area there, had those coal mines going. And then this great Depression come along, and everything died out; everything fell apart.
PN: Did he own mines in Nut tall?
HK: Yes, he owned some in that area down in there and then some back in, back in towards this Landisburg area, back in there. There was another area in there, he had several holdings in there on the coal, the coal business.
PN: Then it just collapsed right from under him?
HK: Yea, right out from under him, which it did in about every case everywhere else too.
PN: When you graduated from high school in Nut tall in 1935, or Lookout — was that the name of the town?
HK: Nuttall High School at Lookout.
PN: And Nuttallburg was a little bit below that?
HR: Yea, Nuttallburg was on down, I 'd say Nuttallburg was down the river. It probably could be possibly six or seven miles on down the river from up there. See, Lookout's quite a bit a ways up the world, you see.
PN: And Lookout was what kind of a town?
HK: Just a little village of farmers and so forth. It wasn't, really wasn't any mines. Winona was the mining camp, below Lookout about two miles, down the hollow, going down towards the river toward Nuttallburg. See, Winona's about, maybe five or six miles above Nut tall burg.
PN: In Nuttallburg at that time, about how many homes were there?
HK: Well, it was sort of a, not exactly a railroad town, but there wasn't very many houses in those places, about like Sewell was. See, there never was a whole lot of houses at Sewell. There wasn't much place to put 'em, to tell you the truth about it. You 've been down at Sewell, haven't you? Well, Nuttallburg's about on the same order -- no area to build houses. so I'd say probably there wasn't over, maybe, oh I don 't know, I'd just be a' taking a guess on it, I'd say maybe there could have been ten to 15 residences there right at Nuttallburg. And of course, they had the coal tipple there and so forth.
PN: Did most of the miners live up on top of the mountain?
HK: No, no, a lot of them lived right in there on the river bottom. There wasn't too much way, that thing there at Nuttallburg, I doubt if you could get up the side of those hills, because they were almost perpendicular, just like it was down there at Sewell. Not much room. Just a railroad bed, and that's about it.
PN: And Sewell was about the same size? How many homes did you say were in Sewell.
HK: I would say probably about, possibly could have been a few more at Sewell than there was at Nut tall burg. V d say at Sewell, there probably could have been as many as 25 or 30 homes there at Sewell. You know, I think about, somewhere around 1875 I read this article about the Long Dell Mine and Ore Works were in there at Sewell. They came in there, I guess that coke, they used to have coke ovens there at Sewell, you know. It was quite a thing along the railroad towns at that time. This Long Dell, I think that was, I 'm not sure whether this company was out of Pittsburgh or out of Virginia. I read that article some time back on that, but that's been a long time ago, that's probably before any of the coal was developed very much.
PN: What kind of ore did they have?
HK: They shipped that in. It had a smelting, whatever you call it, you know to. They used coke I understand, you know, well, for steel, ore and steel, you know. Coke is very much in demand for melting steel; it gets so hot and so forth. So that's the reason.
PN: Did they do that right in Sewell? Did they melt the ore there?
HK: Evidently they did, because this Long Dell Ore and Mine, or Steel, they called it, or something. Evidently, I wouldn't be certain about that, but they were in there, they had to be doing some type of remanufacturing or something with the iron and the ore there. But that was shipped in, the ore was.
PN: But they processed it there?
HK: That's right.
PN: This is when, back in the 1870s?
HK: I believe it was 1865 on up to somewhere along about 1875 or '80. This person that writes for the Beckley Post—Herald, Shirley Donnelly, had a pretty good article on that once before too. He picked up quite a bit of the things that was in there at that time.
PN: Let me just ask you a couple of more things about these lumber camps? When you lived there, what did you generally eat? Did you eat food from your garden?
HK: I'd say 75%, well, maybe 90%, 90% from the garden. About the only things that we bought was the flour and sugar. My father generally kept some hogs, butchered them during the year. We kept a cow or two; we had our own milk and butter. So basically we had everything, except just the sugar and the flour.
PN: Did you buy meat of any kind, or did you just use the meat from the hog?
HR: About the only way, if you didn't raise your own meat, hogs and your cattle —— a lot of people had cattle; my father didn't go into that much, mostly pork from hogs you just didn't buy anything from the store at that time. They didn't have any refrigeration process. At that time, refrigeration was almost unknown. Of course, winter time is all right, meat [sic]. The butchering that you do in the fall of the year, you 'd salt it down with this salt, and it would keep. But you didn't go to the store and buy any meat to speak of at all; they didn't have any way to handle it or keep it, you know.
PN: You were saying before that many of the people who came into the lumber camps were farmers, whereas many of the people that went into the mines, some of them came from Europe or different places around the country. Do you think that the people that worked in the lumber camps raised more animals and food because they 'd been farmers than the miners did?
HR: Right, and like I said a while ago, the farmers, people that had been used to being reared on the farm, didn't look for a pay day. In other words, they looked far enough from one year to the next for their own food. They didn't go to the store and buy. The coal mines generally had a company store set up where you could come right out of the drift— mouth of the coal mines and go right into the store and take your food home with you that night. You used the scrip system, you know, where you would cut scrip and draw your pay day; you didn't draw any money, you'd just draw it out through buying your food. So basically, I think that's where the big difference is. Some of the foreign elements that came in did tend to raise gardens, you know, and then a lot of them didn't bother with it. Most of them didn't have much room around a coal camp to put out a garden, or do anything, you know, you didn’t have the area, the room, the land space. But at the lumber camps, you generally had the wide, open spaces. You wasn't crowded that bad; you could just move out; about the only thing you had to do was clear out some new ground.
PN: So that was different from the coal camp too then. But there was no company say, that Babcock Lumber
HK: Yes, they had a store; they certainly did.
PN: Where, at Landisburg?
HK: Yes, they had a company store.
PN: Could you buy food there?
HK: Yes, just basically, like I said a while ago. No meats to amount to anything at all. No refrigeration or any way to handle it but they had the other things that you, like flour and sugar and, of course, they had lard if you didn't raise your own, kill your own hogs, and butcher them, and had your own lard and everything. You could buy that. Basically you could buy about anything in the food line except the meats, and that wasn't available very much on account that they couldn't keep it, no way to handle it and put it where they could keep it any length of time.
PN: Where did you buy your furniture?
HK: The furniture was, these company stores carried some of the furniture, a line of furniture. Nothing fancy, just mostly, it was the old—time rocking chair, the old split—bottom chairs, and things like that. No sofas, no couches, or nothing like that at that time. That was out.
PN: Did you have a radio?
HK: No, we didn't. The radios at that time, let's see, the radio didn't come in till about thirty—, about, let's see, the first radios came into style, when, about, somewhere around about in the twenties, early twenties, didn't they. At that time, when first came in there, the radio was un— heard of . It may have been in some other parts of the country, but we didn't know anything about a radio. The closest we got to a radio was 1927, when we had the old Edison gramaphone, you know, that had the speaker. My father bought one in 1927. That's one way we got to play music. We'd turn a record on, and then get the guitar and the violin, and pick up the tune, and follow along with the song, some of the old You'd be surprised how fast you can catch on; you have to have something to lead you on, you know, if you get into music and do any good with it.
PN: Where did you play? Did you play like in churches and at social gatherings?
HR: Yes, and they'd have, maybe, what they'd call a log—rolling, or some— thing like that. And the old—time farms, you never had any trouble, every— thing was social and everybody got along good. Maybe stay all night. But anymore, things have changed so much, if you find a place where you can have a good time, sometimes a little bit of trouble develops around where there 's music and big—timing.
PN: Let me ask you one more question; I think the tape's about to run out. Did people drink much beer, or moonshine, or alcohol in the lumber camps.
HR: There wasn't any beer at all, and the moonshine was about the only thing. And they weren't bad about, the people that worked steady didn't let that bother them. It seemed like the people that were idle, the people that didn't have anything to do was the ones that went to extremes on it. The people that worked, they would go along and drink some over the weekend, and no big problems like we have now, you know, with getting out of hand or something. Yes, the drinking went right on, mostly moonshine whisky at that time.
PN: Did people make it, or buy it?
HK: Made it.
PN: Right in the lumber camps.
HK: Well, you know, Prohibition stopped that, at one time there. They didn't make it out in the open; you had to slip around and buy it. Prohibition come in when, nineteen and twenty— , somewhere in the twenties, they prohibited you from making moonshine.
[END OF TAPE]
Oral History Project - Lambert, Elizabeth 1981 Part 1
WC: Mrs. Lambert could you give me your name and date of birth, please?
EL: Elizabeth Alexander Lambert. I was born May 12, 1905.
WC: Where were you born?
EL: At Matoaka,
WC: What county was that in?
EL: Mercer, I think.
WC: OK, well, we can come back to that. What were your parents' names?
EL: My father's name was Joshua Gibbs Lipford. My mother was Elizabeth John Lipford; she was a John before she was married.
WC: And where did they come from?
EL: Cedar Point, Virginia.
WC: Do you remember your grandfather, or grandparents, where they came from?
EL: Well, they came from over there in Virginia, too. Around Richlands. And, of course, my grandparents were deceased. I mean I wasn't very old when they died.
WC: I see. What occupation did your parents follow?
EL: My father did railroad construction work, like building bridges and things like that, and then the timber business in later years.
WC: And when were you first married?
EL: I was married November 8, 1922 in Charleston.
WC: To whom?
EL: To William S. Alexander of Holly Grove, West Virginia.
WC: Did you then move into the New River Gorge?
EL: Yeah, in '24, we then moved into Nuttallburg.
WC: Can you tell me some of your earliest memories about Nuttallburg, how many houses were there and that sort of thing?
EL: Well, there was 62 houses there at Nuttallburg when we went there, because there was no work down the river and anybody that could get a job at Nuttallburg, they were just lucky. You know, the Fordgon Coal Company was operating the place and they paid better than the Union scale. And the men that worked around the mine had lost their union; they had no union at that time. And my brother—in—law was electrician for the Fordson Coal Company and thru his efforts, my husband got the job.
WC: When was the Union lost there?
EL: Well, that vas before I never knew anything about the Union before I married Mr. Alexander. I mean, my father had no connections with the mines, you know. But I don't really know. I guess they wanted too much, just like they want today, back in those times. I don't know.
WC: Uh—huh. Well, where did you live when you lived in Nuttallburg.
EL: Well, I… after my brother—in—law died, we lived in the house with my brother—in—law and my sister. And we went there in July 1924 and he died in December, the fourth, that same year. And then after he died, well we got a house. The Company moved three families around in order to give us a house, so we'd have a house. But they just didn't have any houses when we first went there and we couldn't get one.
WC: Housing was real difficult to get?
EL: Oh, yes. Because a man came there and got a job they didn't have many houses; they just didn't have any place for them then.
WC: Other coal camps along the river, do you know if housing was difficult to get?
EL: Well, no, because Fordson Coal Company only had that one operation. And I really don't know about the others. In fact, I really don't think they were working too good or anything. So, Caperton, or other places like that, I really never heard them say. Up Elverton, at that time, I just don't remember.
WC: So, when your husband first went there, he went to work immediately for the Fords on Coal Company?
EL: Yeah, my brother—in—law got the job for him, and he went to work for Fordson Coal Company.
WC: What was his job?
EL: He got the job as Main—Line Motorman.
WC: Main—Line Motorman. Can you tell me about the house you lived in after the three families were moved? How many rooms, what it was made of?
EL: Yeah, we had five rooms and we had an outside toilet. They didn't even have baths in all the houses and everything. We were just lucky to get that house so he'd have a job, you know? So, there was just a little five—room house.
WC: Kitchen, living—room, three bedrooms?
EL: We had two bedrooms, a dining room, kitchen and living room. That's what I had.
WC: Was it wall—papered inside?
EL: Not until after I got ahold of it.
WC: What did you put in it?
EL: Well, that's what I put in it.
WC: The pattern, do you remember it?
EL: Well, it was flowers and I bought it from Sears and Roebuck; I ordered it from Sears and Roebuck. And that's when I started paintin'. I was real young, I was seventeen when I was married, you see, and I was married in 23. And that was in 24 when we came there. And everything was…I was young
WC: What color was the outside of the house?
EL: Grey.
WC: Was it made of wood?
EL: Yeah, it was wood; and had a big long front porch and had a back porch to it. And we lived right beside of the Church.
WC: What ch - church was this?
EL: Well, this was the only church — that was for all denominations.
WC: It didn't have a particular name?
EL: No, it was just a church. The Company had built the church and it was for any denomination that wanted to preach in it. Of course, there was a bunch of us that was Methodists, you know. We finally got them things for the church.
WC: Different denominations could use the same church?
EL: Yes, could use it…
WC: And who was your Pastor?
EL: Oh, I don't even remember that! That's back so long, I don't even remember.
WC: I see. Did you have a flower garden or vegetable at your home?
EL: No, well, I had a flower garden. I had a beautiful flower garden down at the Club House when 1 was down there. This was before my son was born in the house up there. See, he was born in '27; and he was born in this little five—room house.
WC: Do you remember the attending doctor?
EL: Yes, Doctor Shawver.
WC: Where was he from?
EL: Right there in Rainelle. mean right there in Nuttallburg and his wife was assisting him.
WC: Was he a mining doctor or a private?
EL: Yes, he was a mining doctor.
WC: Do you recall how the doctors were paid. Was it deducted from the men 's checks?
EL: Yes, they would take so much. Each man would pay so much and it was taken out of their pay every month; or every two weeks, the men got paid and each time maybe it was a $1.50, or maybe it was $3.00 that the doctor got paid. 1 just really don't remember about that. But 1 do remember about one thing when Mr. Alexander went to work for Fordson Coal Company. He got $9.20 the first three months and then his wages were raised to $10.20, or something like this.
WC: Is this $9.20 a month?
EL: Yes. Oh, 1 mean a day, a day.
WC: OK. $9.20 a day. What was the normal wage in the New River Gorge coal camps?
EL: Well, I don't really know. I mean, I just don't know about the others at that time. Just Fordson Coal Company.
WC: Did you think this was higher or lower?
EL: Oh, it was higher, because they paid better than the Union wage.
WC: Can you tell me about when Mr. Ford bought the mine, when he sold the mine, and what improvements he made?
EL: Oh, they kept everything up. The grass was kept cut and they had two or three colored men that did nothing except go around picking up papers or anything that was out. The grass never got high or anything. They kept it up. It was a beautiful little camp when they had it.
WC: Well, when did they purchase it?
EL: Well, I just don't know what year they purchased it.
WC: Do you remember when they sold it?
EL: Well, now the Maryland-New River had taken over in 1928.
WC: Mrs. Lambert, can you tell me about some of the chores you had, some of the activities around the home?
EL: Well, see I was always cleaning around the yard; I was painting and papering and while 1 was in this little five—room house was while I kept these school teachers.
WC: Ok. Earlier, before taping, you were talking about running a boarding house. Maybe you could tell me about keeping the school teachers and tell me about the school, too.
EL: Well, now, I kept the school teachers before I went to the Club House. And, see, that's when I started out because they had no place to go and they were lady teachers. I kept four lady teachers. A Mrs. Wickline, Margaret Morris, Ethel Chapman something, I can't even remember.
WC: OK. Was there a Black school there and a White school there?
EL: Yes. One room school for the Black and one room school for the. they had two schools for the White. One for the lower grades and one for the upper grades. Then they had one Colored school.
WC: And what was the highest grade that each of the school's went to?
EL: To the eighth grade.
WC: To the eighth grade. What about the children? Can you tell me how they eent about going on to high school?
EL: Yes. They had to ride the trains to go to high school, and there was three children that went to Lookout. A taxi came down the dirt road and taken them to Lookout; came down from Lookout to Nuttallburg and took them back out. But these children had just moved there and had just about finished their year and this is why that the parents chose to send them like that. Because in the winter time the roads would have been too bad and they couldn't have done that. But the other children rode the train to Ansted to get to school, or to Montgomery. All the children from up and down the river.
WC: What time did they catch the train?
EL: Caught the train about 7:15 in the morning, my daughter did.
WC: Uh—huh. And she went to the bridge at Hawk's Nest?
EL: She went to Hawk's Nest and got off and went up the Branch Line and went to Ansted School. Then when she came back in the evening, she came down on that Branch Line and then she had to cross that trestle there and go over to McDougle and come back up. And she didn't get back home until about 6:15 in the afternoon.
WC: Now, McDougle is on the North side of the railroad tracks…
EL: South side.
WC: South side of the railroad tracks and do you recall the name of the Branch railroad line that went up to Ansted?
EL: Ah, let's see. I’ve got it in here, but I don't remember right off.
WC: OK. We can go on from there then. You also talked about the boarding house. Can you tell me how that came about?
EL: Yes, I was sitting on my back porch one evening. And they had had several people in the Club House and from my back yard you could see it. And they had such a beautiful yard down there and nobody taking care of anything. I decided, gee, if I had that place what I could do with it. And I decided I'd like to have it. And that evening I told my husband and he said, “Well, you're crazy.” And I said I may be but this is what I want. So I went out to the Superintendent's, we were all good friends and they just lived down the road a little piece. And I said to Mr. Hubbs, “Mr. Hubbs, how about calling Mr. Garvey.” He was Vice—President and General Manager of Maryland— New River. I said, “How about calling Mr. Garvey and talking to him about me getting the Club House. I like the Club House.” And I knew the doctor that was living there was fixing to leave. He said, “Well, Livvy, why should I talk to him. You can talk to him.” So he went in and got Mr. Garvey on the phone. And he told me, “Livvy, come on in here. Mr. Garvey wants to talk to you.” So I went on in and I talked with Mr. Garvey and before I went back home, I had the job. And that's how it came about. Just exactly.
WC: Can you tell me about the Club House, boarding house, where it was located, how many rooms it had, and the routine of serving people, bedding and so forth?
EL: Yeah, I had eighteen large rooms. The walls were plaster. I had four half beds in each room. They were large rooms. And we had three big halls that ran all the way through the Club House. And we had a nice large living room, and a large dining room and a kitchen. And the kitchen and the dining room had Wainescoating, and this vas the home of the Nuttalls. You see, that property down there all belonged to the Nut tall s. This was their home and it was never to be sold or to be made away with. But, in time, it was sold and the house vas torn down.
WC: So the Nuttalls had moved out of the house and it had become the Club House, a boarding house?
EL: Yes, uh—huh
WC: Now did you stay in your house or did you move down to the boarding house?
EL: Oh, no! I moved into the Club House. That was our home. We moved down there. That was our home. You know.
WC: What was the financial arrangements for you running the house, and so forth?
EL: The way that I run the Club House was on these terms: the Company gave me ten per cent on everything that I had taken in for rent. Everything, the groceries or anything like that, they gave me ten per cent off on my groceries. And any of the board where I'd taken in, they got ten per cent. And they called this rent. This was how this was operated. They furnished the coal, the lights, everything. If 1 didn't have a boarder, I wasn't out a penny.
WC: Now, when you lived in your other home, how was rent charged then?
EL: Well, the drop cord; $1.50 for every drop cord that you had in the house. $7.50 was what we were charged for that. That was the rent.
WC: OK. Could you explain the term "drop cord"?
EL: Well, that Was where your light was in the ceiling and your cord dropped down and it just had a globe in it. That was what they called a "drop cord.
WC: So, you had five drop cords for a total charge of $7.50.
EL: Yes, $7.50.
WC: When did electricity first come to Nuttallburg? Do your recall?
EL: No. It was there when I went. Cause, see, Fordson Coal Company was operating that coal company before I ever went there.
WC: Just to go back a moment. Can you tell me about some of the furnishings that you had in your home? mien you first went to Nuttallburg, you had a radio?
EL: Yeah, well, we didn't when we first went there because they weren't out. But we had the second one that was there. It was a Naff, no, a Carlson Showbox was the name of it.
WC: Was it battery operated?
EL: Yes .
WC: Can you tell me about some of the programs that you got?
EL: Yeah. We got Amos and Andy. Oh, heck. I don't know. Well, there was a lot of those... Little Jimmy Dickens and all that kind of stuff.
WC: Music programs?
EL: Yeah. "Amos and Andy" was one of the. . . and there was another one that I just can't think or recall now. But every evening "Amos and Andy" were on.
WC: Do you recall who got the first radio down there?
EL: Yes. Homer Bowyer got the first one and we got the second one. There was a Mr. Christianson from Edmond that sold them, and he gave my husband his interest. You know, he sold them and he said, 'Well, if you want a radio , I'll just get it for you for what it costs me. You won't have to pay me anything. So, we had the second.
WC: To go back to the boarding house, can you tell me who the boarders were and how much they had to pay? I don't recall you having told
EL: Yes, they paid a dollar a day for room and board. Can you believe it? Now, that's when I first went. Yeah!
WC: And who were these people that boarded there?
EL: Oh, well. I had a Mr. K. D. Meeks from Charleston, lived in the third house going down the Boulevard, and he stayed at the Club House for a long, long time. He was one of their bank bosses. And I had a Mr. Bobbitt, and a Mr. Jones from Edmond. Oh, I . . .
WC: So what jobs would they be working at when they were boarding with you?
EL: Oh, this Mr. Jones was a bank boss. This Mr. Bobbitt was an electrician. And, oh, I just can't think of all the names. My Heavens! had a lot of them. You know. 1 would.
WC: Didn't you have a lot of foreigners with no families and whatever, that was working there? (This question asked by another man in the room.)
EL: Oh, well. I didn't have so many foreigners.
WC: Did single miners, for instance, stay with you.
EL: Yeah. Well, this young man that was here, his brother stayed at the Club House. That was Malenovitch. Bill changed his name to Alec. Oh, a Houskenich. Young man by the name of Bill Houskenich stayed with us. I just can't. I was trying to think of the electrician that stayed with us, but I just can't think.
WC: Well, what about the Post Office? Where was it located?
EL: In the depot, just over the hill. Just a jump from the Club House. The Club House was right here and the depot set right there. My daughter could wait until she heard the train at Keeney's Creek and go off the porch and catch the train.
WC: And, how often did you get the mail?
EL: About four times a day.
WC: Earlier we talked about a road at Keeneys Creek. Can you tell me about that road? How it went out of the Gorge?
EL: Yeah. It started at the store and went all the way out to Winona. It come on out by the swinging bridge and on up the hill. And I was telling you about the skeleton on the right...
WC: Yes, could you elaborate on that?
EL: That was about the second crossing. You had to go across a railroad crossing going up out of there and I think it was the second crossing was where this big rock was with a skeleton on it. And that's where you went on up to Keeney's Creek. And from Keeney's Creek you went to Winona. And that's the way you went out on the dirt road.
WC: OK. You left Nuttallburg parallel to the river up towards Keeney's Creek, then the road went back up out of the mountain. But the skeleton was between Keeney's and Nuttallburg?
EL: Yeah, not too far out of Nuttallburg.
WC: I understand the story that people see a skeleton, was just moss on the rock. Can you tell me how that got started?
EL: Well, it just looked like a skeleton when you was coming in there at nights or going out. The lights from your car would flash on that and it would look like a skeleton.
WC: So you would see it as you were going out away from Nuttallburg?
EL: Yeah, well, yeah.
WC: Do you think maybe that moss shaped skeleton could still be there?
EL: Why, I betcha it is.
WC: Ok. Well, what about the railroad that run from Winona to Nuttallburg. I understand that was pretty difficult to build and immigrants were used on that. Can you tell me about that?
EL: Mr. Nuttall, John Nuttall, built the road on the upper, the upper tracks where these trestles are. Now he built this road with foreign help, because they said…the C & O said they couldn't do it. And he brought foreign help in and built that road.
WC: Do you remember what year that was?
EL: No, I don't know.
WC: Do you remember where the immigrants came from and where they lived?
EL: No, I don't remember that either.
WC: This would have been before…before coming there in 1924?
EL: Before my time. Oh, yes.
WC: OK. Do you remember any Labor Day celebration that the Union might have had in Nuttallburg?
EL: No. The only thing I remember about the Union men was that they borrowed $30 from the depot agent, a Mr. Hill, and went to Fayette Station and got their charter when they organized. And I remember that real, real well that they borrowed $30 from this Mr. Hill because we were family and friends, you know. And I remember that. But one thing about the Company, they were never hostile toward the men after they got they got a Union grant.
WC: Which Company was this?
EL: Maryland-New River. You see, Fordson didn't recognize the Union.
WC: Were there any union management problems down there that you knew of?
EL: No. I never knew of them having any.
WC: You don't know of them having any Union sponsored picnics or celebrations?
EL: No.
WC: What about saloons down there? Were there any saloons?
EL: No. Not at Nuttallburg. There was at Fayette Station. In earlier years, you know, they had a saloon down at Fayette Station they said was quite a saloon.
WC: Did it have a name that you remember?
EL: No. I don't remember the name. It was just a saloon at the end of the bridge. I don't know What the name was.
WC: What about the Company Store? Where was it located?
EL: Well, it was located beyond the tipple. You know, where the incline comes down at Nuttallburg, it was on (like you was going on down the river), it was on a flat place out from the tipple.
WC: Ok. Did people have to trade at the Company Store?
EL: No. Not unless you wanted to.
WC: Where else would you go to trade?
EL: Well, I traded at Garten's at Meadow Creek. And I traded at Charleston at George Ord’s. And I ordered my milk from Ronceverte. And you could buy there or you could go out. NOW they wasn't the kind that would tell you where to buy your groceries. I know some of those companies would, but not them. Not either one.
WC: Were the prices cheaper at other stores, or you just chose
EL: Well, it was just a small community and they didn't always have everything you wanted, you know. And like fresh produce and all this kind of stuff all the time. And, of course, back in that time you had ice boxes. You didn't have electric refrigerators. I got one before I left Nuttallburg. But, anyway, when I first went there, we didn't have them. We just had the ice boxes, you know.
WC: Yes. To go back for just a moment, you mentioned before taping that your father was in the timber business and worked with the Gwinn's. Could you tell a little bit about this?
EL: Well, he went to Terry and my father went up there in twenty - well, I guess it was. My father went up there maybe in '22, long about 22. And he had horses, and he had a sawmill there. He wasn't up there but, oh, I don't know. Maybe a couple of years, or something like that. But my home was at Pratt down in Kanawha County, see. And they just left the home and went up there. I think maybe they just kinda built this house for them to live in while he was there on this job. And my mother went and stayed with him. And I had a younger sister and she was going to school at Montgomery and she just stayed at the dormitory.
WC: Well, where did you stay?
EL: Well, I was married.
WC: OK. I see. You mentioned they built the house. Who was this?
EL: Well, I think the lumber company. You know, my father being in the timber business and Mr. Gwinn had the sawmill down there. And I guess they got together and built it. It was just rough wood put up where they were just going to be there for the time of getting this timber out. And my father had big fine looking horses. They got one of the horses down in the logs up there and had to kill it. I do remember that when we were up there visitin’.
WC: Could you tell what the horses were used for in lumbering?
EL: Yes. They were used to pull the logs in to the sawmill.
WC: So they would cut lumber at the sawmill for the bigger lumber companies?
EL: Yeah. They would cut lumber, timber, I guess, and the horses would drag that down to the sawmill. Because, in them days, down in there, they didn't have the trucks and things like they do now.
WC: Where was the sawmill located?
EL: Well the sawmill was located Terry and down where the Gwinn's home was . In between Terry and down in there. But it's been so long ago since '24, you can imagine, since I was there and this happened.
WC: Do you remember the names of some of the Gwinn 's that your father worked with?
EL: No. I don't remember the name of the Mr. Gwinn, and the wife and all of them. Of course, they had a daughter I think was a nurse at that time. They was just real nice people. But I really don't remember their first names.
WC: Did the Gwinn's have a sawmill on their farm also?
EL: Yeah, uh—huh. They had a sawmill. Mr. Gwinn had a sawmill and that set below like going down the river. I remember where that sawmill set. Right there, there was a hollow.
WC: Alright. There was a large home—place, if you remember that. Now was it on the downstream side of that?
EL: Uh—huh. Now I tell you, there was two of the Gwinn's and they both had nice large homes down in there.
WC: Right. Now this would be the second home we were talking about?
EL: No. It was the first home coming from McCreery.
WC: OK. That's known as the Jerome Stone residence now. And so after you passed that house, where would the sawmill be located?
EL: Well, just below it.
WC: OK. Right near the river there, then?
EL: Yeah. Uh—huh.
WC: Did they float the lumber on the river that you know of?
EL: No. Not that I…I don't think so.
WC: Can you tell me how many black people lived in Nuttallburg?
EL: Well, there wasn't so many black people, and the black people all lived up on the hill above the tipple. That is where they were put. Above the tipple, that's where they were put.
WC: So they had their own section, you might say?
EL: Yeah, uh—huh.
WC: And you mentioned their own school. Did they have a church there?
EL: Yes. They had a church and they also had a lodge hall down there. But I don't remember...KPIs I believe is what the colored people had. But I don't remember well. But I know they had this big lodge hall.
WC: Did the Company build the church?
EL: Yes.
WC: And where did the men work at?
EL: They worked at the mines.
WC: All of them were miners?
EL: Yes. Only the ones they had working outside cleaning up. But at the tipple and everything like that, everybody worked in the mines.
WC: Do you know where these Blacks had moved from to Nuttallburg?
EL: No. I don't know that. But a lot of those Black people have moved right over here in Mt. Hope and around over here.
WC: So they still live in this area?
EL: Yeah. And the ex—Mayor t s, one of his maids, lived at Nuttallburg at one time when she was young. I said Mayor. I meant Governor.
WC: Okey Patterson?
EL: Okey Patterson, yeah. Katherine Green.
WC: OK. Now we mentioned before taping about Brown's across the River. Now what do you recall on that?
EL: Well, I just remember that it was a little town that you went across the bridge to. And as you got across the bridge, there was a house just as you got across the bridge and the store right there. And the little depot. And the houses were up and down the railroad.
WC: We were talking about Brown's on the South side of the river and you mentioned the Company Store. Who owned the Company Store?
EL: Eli Smokeless owned it when they had the company. Then Mary Francis Coal Company had it. Whoever was operating the coal mines owned the store. But there was a Mr. Rupert that was always store manager because he was connected with some of these people. And he was always the store manager. All the years I was down there.
WC: I see. Was there a mines on the Browns side?
EL: Yes.
WC: Where was it located?
EL: On the hill.
WC: Upstream or downstream?
EL: No. Upstream.
WC: OK. Now this was the Eli Smokeless Coal Company. Now can you tell me how many people lived over on the Browns side?
EL: I don't know, but there was more colored people over there than they was White. I just couldn't say. But they had a one room school house, too, on that side.
WC: This was for the Black people?
EL: No. This was for the on that side. And one of the teachers that boarded with me taught over there, too. But to say just how many people were over there, 1 just don't really. I just couldn't say.
WC: How about houses? Could you guess how many houses were there?
EL: Well, I'd say about a hundred. Not more.
WC: How did people cross the river between Nuttallburg and Browns, or South Nuttall as its called by the Railroad.
EL: There was a swinging bridge. They crossed the river by the swinging bridge.
WC: What do you remember about the swinging bridge? Any stories or crossings that might have been dangerous because of high water?
EL: Yes. The water was up so high that it was dangerous a lot of times, or it looked like it was to me a lot of times, because it was almost up to the bridge. And they had this cart that brought coal to their employees that lived on our side of the river. And they'd come across that swinging bridge with that mule and that cart. And if you was fixing to go across, you waited until they got across; or if you was on the bridge, you had to back up. So that was the way that they had to travel. And you went down the river on the trains on our side. And when you came up the river, you came up on the Browns side and anybody on our side had to come across the swinging bridge to get back home.
WC: Can you tell me about this mule cart again that carried the coal. I’m interested in that. What type of wheels it had, how it was made?
EL: Well, it just looked like wagon wheels, and just a cart. And it had this mule. And there was just big wagon wheels on it and it was just a cart.
WC: I wonder how much coal it could carry?
EL: Well, maybe a half—ton.
WC: Would the Company furnish this?
EL: Oh, yeah. And see, they had people that lived right at the end of the bridge on our side of the river. And they would haul coal over there to them and that's how they got their coal. And they, of course, the people would have to have coal and that's how they taken it to them. But I would say a half— ton of coal.
WC: What was the recreational opportunities at Nuttallburg at this period of time?
EL: Well, there wasn't anything. There was a ball park out in front of the Club House there where I lived. And the kids would come out there and they would play ball. And that was just about all they was; they just wasn't anything. Of course, they had a show at Elverton and the kids would get to go to the Elverton picture show (the parents that would let them go). It was dangerous walking up and down the track.
WC: Why was it dangerous? The trains?
EL: Oh, yeah.
WC: Were there any deaths along the track?
EL: Oh, sure.
WC: Do you know how many?
EL: Well, I don't know how many, but I know one Sunday night we went to Elverton to a picture show, and we came back home and came across the bridge. Just before we got across the bridge, well, one of the young men from our side of the river, had been killed. They thought that he had just set down on the railroad track and just went to sleep. And his shoes were knocked off of his feet. (To someone else in the room: “Do you remember the Siner boy?”)
WC: OK. Was this baseball that the children played?
EL: Yeah. Out in the field there by the Club House.
WC: Were there mining teams, baseball teams?
EL: Yeah. Now Fordson Coal Company had a team, and my husband played on that. But they had to go to Edmond to play ball, because there was no park down there for practicing or anything. They had to go to Edmond on the cliffs.
WC: Did he have a uniform?
EL: Oh, yeah. He had a uniform. He had a Fordson uniform.
WC: What were some of the other teams that they played?
EL: Oh. They played Gallagher on Payne Creek, and they played Winona. I don't know. It's been so long ago. I know, maybe Fayetteville and different teams. Most of the mining camps in those days...and before my husband came to New River, why he played for Crown Hill down in Kanawha County for one of the coal camps.
WC: What position did he play?
EL: Outfield. Something about outfield. That's all I can tell you.
WC: Do you remember if the miners had special privileges if they played on the company's ball team?
EL: I don't remember Nuttallburg, anything about it. But I remember at Crown Hill in Kanawha County, they offered my husband one of the nicest houses if he would move on the job and play ball there for them. No way would I go. They killed them just about every Saturday night down there. Now that I remember.
WC: How about fishing on the New River.
EL: Yeah. My husband did a lot of fishing on the New River and they'd set trot lines and, gee! You'd be surprised.
WC: What would they catch?
EL: It was, ah, what are the fish that you have to skin? A catfish.
WC: What about bass or any other types of fish?
EL: No. Never anything but catfish that I 've ever seen come out of the New River.
WC: Did they use any other methods of fishing besides the trot line?
EL: Yeah. He'd go down there and set on them river banks on Saturday night and fish all night long. And I t 11 tell you something else. He'd have me make him dough balls, 'he'd call them. And I 'd make them out of corn meal and put cheese in them and this was good bait to catch the fish on.
WC: What else was used for bait?
EL: Well, I…well, he'd a lot of times take cheese and stuff like that if he was just going to set on the bank. But if he was going to set the trot line, why it was always cheese balls, cause I got to make 'em.
WC: You mentioned Elverton and the show. Do you know when the movie theater was put in at Elverton?
EL: No. I think it was there. I don't remember if it was there when we went, but I expect it was.
WC: Now, Elverton is upstream from Nuttallburg? About how many miles?
EL: Yes. I’d say it was about two miles on the South side.
WC: On the South side?
EL: Yes.
WC: And where was the movie theater located at in Elver ton?
EL: Right on the river bank.
WC: Was it on the downstream side of the town?
EL: Yeah. Right beside of the store, right on the river bank, like you'd say Browns store set. Well, that was just like the theater up at Elverton set, just right on the river bank.
WC: Was it across the railroad tracks, or between the railroad tracks and the river?
EL: Between the railroad tracks and the river.
WC: And it was beside the company store?
EL: Yeah.
WC: Do you remember what was on the downstream side of Elver ton? Any large buildings that you might recall having been in that location?
EL: Nothing. The largest building I remember up there was the club house. All those coal companies had to have club houses.
WC: Would it have been across the railroad tracks, away from the river?
EL: Yes. Across the railroad tracks from the theater and the store on the other side. And at Caperton, see, they had another swinging bridge on up at Caperton. I guess you 've heard of that one?
WC: Yes. What did it look like?
EL: Well, very much like the one at Nuttallburg. Just a swinging bridge with ropes and the piers and everything.
WC: Wooden planking for the walk?
EL: Yes. And I know there was three of us walked up there one day, just us ladies. And we'd go to the store, you know, and look around. And we'd come back and we had no more than got off the Caper ton bridge than a work train came down and something on that work train, something they had on that work train, caught on one of those wires and turned that bridge up just like that. And this lady that was here today, her sister was one of them. And we weren't down the road very far when that happened.
WC: At the swinging bridge on the Caperton side of the river, on the North side, there is a real large structure that still stands there today. Do you know who lived there or who built that home?
EL: No. I don't.
WC: Do you recall it being there when you were visiting there?
EL: Oh, yeah.
WC: Was there much visiting between the coal camps among the people, such as you 've just mentioned.
EL: No. Really and truly, I knew the lady that operated the club house up there, and the doctor, the young doctor that was up there. And, of course, his parents lived at Nuttallburg. His father was depot agent there, that Mr. Hill I mentioned. Dr. Hill then went to Elverton when he. I guess his first practice was there at Elverton.
WC: Do you remember the McKendree Hospital?
EL: Yeah .
WC: Can you tell me about that?
EL: Well, I just remember the McKendree Hospital and I remember it better from being over there the three months when we visited my mother and my father when they were there at Terry, than T do being on down the river; because we always went, if we went to the hospital, we went to Montgomery Hospital.
WC: Why did you go to Montgomery?
EL: Because it was closer and that was home to us down there.
WC: I see. What did the people think about the hospital being down there in the river area, the McKendree Hospital? Was there favorable. . .
EL: Oh, yeah! - Of course, people were real proud of it…and all like that, you know. But to us, that was out of the way. I mean, to what Montgomery Hospital, because we'd go down on one train and come back on the next. When you'd go up the river to McKendree, it was kind of unhandy.
WC: I see. Do you remember any ferrys operating across the river?
EL: No. I don't know of any.
WC: OK. I think this just about concludes our tape. I did want to ask if you were familiar with the NRA, the National Recovery Act, that passed in 1933, if you remember that and how it might have affected the area and the Gorge? And prior to that, before we close, do you have any memories of the Depression?
EL: Oh, yeah. I don't mind.
WC: Could you tell me about that?
EL: Yeah. I have memories of that, that we most of us played cards at nighttime for entertainment, because they didn't work and there wasn't anything to do. I remember that real well.
WC: What year was this?
EL: That was in the 30's. Maybe 32, I think, ' 32 .
WC: What type of cards did you play?
EL: We’d play bridge. And if the mines was going to work, they'd work on Saturday and instead of working through the week. And we'd always stay up later on Saturday nights and some of women would say, “Well, I don’t see why they have to work on Saturdays when they didn't have any work all week.” Can you imagine that? That was the way it was.
WC: Did the men play bridge, too?
EL: Oh, yeah.
WC: And during the Depression, vas it just a matter of there was no work?
EL: No. There was no work now. And there was some of the people that really just didn't have anything. However, I can say for one thing, we just wasn't as hard up as some of them because I had kept the teachers before and my husband had worked and we had saved a little bit. But, of course, when it was over, we didn't have anything. But this is the truth and the superintendent told me there was two families on the job that didn't take...what'd they call it, relief or something, or commodities, is that what they'd give out?
WC: There was something available.
EL: Well, alright. He said there was two families on the job. We were one of them and, this lady that was here today, her sister and her husband was another one of them. The Alexanders and the F ryes. Mister, not Garvey, but Hubbs.
WC: Who provided this relief? Was it the State or the Red Cross?
EL: Well, the State, I guess. And then they had the CC Camps for these boys, and they put them and those boys, of course, sent so much money back. The parents got so much from what those boys. And then for a while, I remember they let some of the men work on the road going out of Winona. You know, to make a dollar, beating up rocks or whatever.
WC: Where were the CCC Camps located, the Civilian Conservation Corps?
EL: Over at Lookout, over there at that cliff top.
WC: Is this the one that worked in the Babcock State Park?
EL: Yes, uh—huh, yes. I had a boy that worked there in the Club House for me, doing things, and he would. I really missed him when he left the Club House.
WC: So during the Depression, you had the Club House?
EL: No. Now, during the time they had the CC Camps I had the Club House.
WC: Oh, OK. I 've heard times were difficult in southern West Virginia during the 1920's. Do you remember the folks having a difficult time then, similar to what we call the Depression in the '30's.
EL: No. Now, in the 20's, I was married in '22, and I was 17 years old when
I was married. So, 1 don't remember a whole lot about that. And, of course,
WC: My father didn't work around the mines at that time, or anything. So I didn't really know a lot about that. I don't remember a whole lot about that.
WC: Quickly, one last thing. I remember you mentioned when you ran the Club house... Boarding House, that you mentioned that you got ten percent off on your groceries. Can you tell me a little bit about the groceries that you would buy? Where you purchased them?
EL: Well, go to the Company Store and buy whatever I wanted. And whatever I bought, they gave me ten percent off. And, then, I'd cash scrip for 25 percent on the dollar, you see. And then I 'd pay that scrip on my grocery bill.
WC: Can you tell me how scrip operated? I’m not familiar with this.
EL: Well, those people down there, they didn’t have cash. Well, they'd go and draw their scrip at the Company Store and then they'd want cash for it and they'd bring it to you. You could give them seventy—five cents for a dollar. And, on Saturdays you could cash about all the scrip that you could...
WC: So they'd get scrip in advance of their salary and this would be deducted from their salary.
EL: Yes, uh—huh.
WC: Was there a discount on this, or an additional amount of money taken for the handling of the scrip, you might say?
EL: You mean, through the Company?
WC: Yes.
EL: Well, no. I think that was just redeemable in merchandise as far as the Company was concerned. But they'd take it out and sell their scrip so they would have money for whatever they wanted on the weekends. This is usually when you would get scrip. Well, when I got ten percent off on my groceries and cashed scrip and get 75 cents... or, 25 cents off of a dollar, well I got my groceries cheaper, I expect, than the Company could buy them, if the truth was known. Cause that was 30 cents.
(Man in the background asks question: Why didn't you buy your groceries from down from that other town?)
EL: Oh, from Meadow Bridge. Well, that. They came along, but I didn't get any discount there. But you could get more. There was more things, you know. A little store like that and they had to send the stuff down from Winona to Nuttallburg, from the Winona store to Nuttallburg store, every week. Maybe a couple of times so we could...well, a truck would come down and bring the things. Well, you could Imagine, you know.
WC: Who owned the Winona store?
EL: Maryland-New River Coal Company.
WC: Ok. I keep thinking of these additional things. Another thing is the Nuttall family itself. Can you give me your recollections of the Nuttall family, their names and so forth?
EL: No. I can't give you the names. The girls of the Nuttall's was up at the Club House a couple of times while I operated the Club House, and they would tell me about setting out there on the bank during World War I when the soldiers would go by and waving at them, you know. And they was telling me about they had a piano and they had these big halls in the Club House. And they said one night they were setting there playing this piano and a big boulder came off of the hill and came through that hall, you know, and all this kind of stuff. 1 don't know their names. I couldn't tell you.
WC: The Nuttall's had left when you had arrived there?
LC: Yes. And then, you see, the Club House was their home and that was never to be sold or torn down. Well, in due time, Mr. Garvey did sell the building and it was torn down. When I left Maryland-New River, when they closed at Winona, I went to Rainelle and taken over the King Coal Hotel. I was manager of the King Coal Hotel. Well, during the time I was there, the Nuttalls came to the Hotel. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Garvey was staying with me there at the Hotel during that time. Mr. Garvey came to me and wanted to know if he could have the dining room for a meeting. And I said yes. So they went into the dining room after we got through with the dining room to have this meeting. So, it wasn't long till I was called in. And I didn't know what was going on, of course. And, while Mr. Garvey was a wonderful person, they had him on the carpet for getting rid of the Club House. And, of course, they knew that I was the manager of the Club House and how I had kept it, you know. I went in there and I started a papering and paintin' and these big high ceilings and all that stuff. And, they wanted to know how many rooms. I could tell them how many windows and everything about it. But, I really hated it because I was called in, you know. Because I didn't want to say anything about. . . against Mr. Garvey in no way, shape or form. But it was gone, and that was the way it was.
WC: When was the house torn down, the Club House?
EL: Well, I think it was torn down in about '45 or t 46.
WC: When did you leave there?
EL: I left there in '45.
WC: Going back to the groceries. We're interested in the type of foods people had and ate and so forth. Can you just list the things that you had purchased ?
EL: Well, they had the same things that they had in any other store. They had meats and they had some vegetables. Course we didn't have fresh vegetables every day they came in, you know. But, just beans, potatoes.
WC: Most of your purchases would be canned goods, I guess?
EL: Well, yeah. Of course, we got green stuff in occasionally. And another thing that we had down there was the peddlers in the summer time. The peddlers would come to the bridge.
WC: Where did they come from?
EL: Back out there at High Coal, and all around in there. And they brought their produce down there. And I had one man from High Coal that delivered produce for me for years down there. Then when I went to Winona to the Club House, why, 1 bought my potatoes, my eggs by the case and everything. The chickens, back then, you know, you couldn't just go to the store and get a chicken ready dressed and ready to cook. If we had chicken on Sundays, we had to get it from the peddlers and we had to dress the chickens on Saturday evening or Sunday morning, however. And this is the way that you had to do when it came to things like that.
WC: Did you or other people raise chickens or hogs or anything like that?
EL: Yeah. Well, one year we got really smart and we raised two hogs. Well, it was real nice because we had a place there, and my son belonged to the 4—H. So he ordered chickens and his father taken care of them and we had some real nice chickens. But, of course, we just used those for the table. But, that was the end of our raising anything down there.
WC: Did the men do any hunting for game or anything?
EL: Oh, yeah. My husband, he went every year. Deer hunting…
WC: In the Gorge?
EL: No. Of course, they had to leave out of there, but there was several of them that went. They went deer hunting for a week and they went squirrel hunting for a week up in Pocahontas County and all around up in there.
WC: Were there any game in the Gorge itself, deer or bear?
EL: No. Not that I know of. I don't think anybody ever...small game, rabbits. I don 't remember anybody ever catching any rabbits.
WC: You didn't see anything like that, huh?
EL: Rabbits or anything you had down there was what you had for pets or something like that.
WC: We've covered just about everything that I can think of. Do you have anything that you would like to add or anything that we might have left out?
EL: No. I don't know. I've said so much and not a whole lot either. But, it was a lovely camp and a lovely company to work for. I’ll have to say, Fordson Coal Company and Maryland New River, you wouldn't have wanted to work for a better company. As far as I was concerned, they was tops.
WC: It would probably be helpful just for the records here if you could recall some of the mine superintendents and officials and so forth and name those. That might be helpful.
EL: Well, the first one when I went to Nuttallburg, was a Mr. C. F. White from Staunton, Virginia, was Superintendent of the Fordson Coal Company. Alright then, when Maryland-New River taken over in '28, why, a Mr. Ron Caglan was Superintendent. And then we had a Mr. Ray Hubbs that came in as Superintendent. Oh, we had another one or two that I just can't remember exactly.
WC: Did a Mr. Campbell, Mr. Ray Campbell...?
EL: Yeah. Ray Campbell, now he, of course, worked in the store. They hired him and he just worked in the store. He finally became a store manager. Course I was with him for many a day. He was at Kaymoor when I was at Nuttallburg, working for that company down there, you see. I know Ray Campbell real well. And... but, he is looking after Nuttall's estate now. I think maybe his son is going in to it, because I think maybe he isn't too well. He had this scrip, when they quit using the scrip. Well, he taken the scrip to his home and his wife kept fussing for him to get it out of there. So he said he was going to Fayetteville one day and he put the scrip in his car and he stopped on Cotton Hill Bridge and throwed that scrip off in the river down at the Cotton Rill.
WC: Do you know how large of an amount that was?
EL: No, I don't know. I could have found out by asking him. One of the men that vas killed and throwed in the river on the South side one Saturday night — now Mr. Campbell was working at the Company Store at Kaymoor at the time, and the body came up on our side of the river just opposite the Store. And he said they burned that body down there when that body came up on that side of the river. And he said they could hardly stay in that town. I remember that, you know.
WC: Why did they burn the body?
EL: Well, cause they wanted to make away with it because some of them had killed him. And that's why they wanted to make away with the body.
WC: Oh, the people that had committed the murder?
EL: Yeah, uh—huh.
WC: I see. What about the Company Store itself. I've heard that it had some type of ammonia or something of its own type of refrigeration. Do you recall anything about this?
EL: Yes, uh—huh. And I was there, I guess, when that was put in. Well, I don 't remember what kind of ammonia or anything like that, but they just make big cakes of ice. And see, we had refrigerators. I had a Leonard Ice—Box under it. I never will forget it, and they brought ice around, you know. And made the ice right there at the store. Then after my brother—in—law died, he died with the typhoid fever and two of the other electricians had it, why, Fordson Coal Company put in a filtering plant there in Nuttallburg. And that building was in that picture there you showed me today.
WC: OK. Well, I sure appreciate your time and you've been most helpful in providing this information for us. Thank you so much.
EL: Well, you're quite welcome.
[End of Tape]
Oral History Project - Lawson, Jane 1980
Telegrapher and Postmistress, Thurmond 1934 - 1964
PN: To start off maybe I could ask you when you were born and where you were born.
JL: I was born August 13, 1924 at Glen White.
PN: In Raleigh County?
JL: Yes.
PN: What did your father do when you were growing up?
JL: He was a conductor for the C. and O. Railway Company.
PN: Did you spend your whole childhood in Glen White?
JL: No, we really never lived there. My mother just went there for my birth. At the time, I think we lived in Sewell, which is just below Thurmond.
PN: So you lived in Sewell Immediately after you were born?
JL: Yes, I went back there and I don't know for what length of time — not too long.
PN: When did you move to Thurmond ?
JL: We moved to Thurmond in 1934, from Clyde Street in Beckley. And we had lived before that in East Beckley. I'm not familiar with the street. I know where the house is, and I 'm not familiar with the street.
PN: So you moved to Thurmond when you were ten years old?
JL: Nine, about nine and a half, I guess. I would have been ten in August.
PN: How long did you lived In Thurmond for?
JL: Until 1963, but I worked another year, and drove back and forth to work there at the post office, for a year after we left in 1963, when we came to Oak Hill. And that was due, our moving was due to a fire which destroyed part of the town.
PN: Was that the fire when the Lafayette Hotel was burned?
JL: Yes. And the old Armour Building.
PN: Were you living then in the home…
JL: In the Armour Building, which had two six—room apartments , two three—room apartments, and one two—room apartment, which also housed the S. Post Office, the Teen Club at that time. And this was all destroyed. Besides, another cottage which sat above this building was burned, a six-room and bath cottage.
PN: What were the years that you were employed in Thurmond?
JL: From '42 until ’64.
PN: Was that all as a postmaster?
JL: No, I spent 14 years with — 14 months, pardon me with the C. and O. as a, they called us telegraph operators, but really we just used the telephone. But we did the work of telegraphers at that time, during the war. They did not feel that they had time to teach us telegraphy. Because they needed us desperately so many of the young telegraphers had gone into the service. And I enjoyed this work very, very much; I really did. And I worked at Caldwell, up next to Ronceverte [in Greenbrier County]; at Stone Cliff where they had a station; at Thurmond; and I also worked at Harvey.
PN: This was all for the C. and O.?
JL: Yes, and really enjoyed It. It was very interesting work.
PN: When did you become a postmaster?
JL: I 'm not sure the year exactly that I became postmaster, but I worked about ten months as a clerk before I went to work as a telegrapher. And then after my marriage my first marriage, to Master Sargeant Charles Graham who was very highly decorated he and I both worked for the post office. So I really went back to work in December of 1945. And I was married that year in July. And I would say that was about, I was acting postmaster I 'd say for about two years before I was made post—master. But I worked altogether 19 and a half years for the postal service in Thurmond. And then I worked as a clerk, eight and a half in Oak Hill. And at that time, of course the rules have changed now, I had to come to Oak Hill to work because at that time, you had to live on the job. So that's the reason we had, our family had to move to Oak Hill.
PN: Then that was about the same time as the fire?
JL: That was the same reason, yes, that was the reason for it all. That changed our whole life. And at that time, then I had to go in as a substitute clerk, after being postmaster, which was a big difference.
PN: I was wondering if I could go back to the thirties for a moment and back in the period after you moved there in 1934 [laughing as Mrs. Lawson's white cat began biting the tape reel as it was moving]. I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Thurmond, and the people, and how the town looked, you know, at about that period in the mid—thirties.
JL: Oh, it was a very nice town. Everybody had flowers and kept everything up very nice, and kept their houses painted. And all the business places, and especially the C. and O., they had numerous flowers planted for every season. And everything just looked real nice, and they kept everything painted and up to date. And we really had just about everything we wanted right there at Thurmond at that time. They had a drug store, and we had a doctor; we had two restaurants, and two stores, a funeral home, and a shoe shop. And there was always some thing, I mean there was so many clubs and so many things going on that you really were busy all the time.
PN: How many people would you say lived in Thurmond at that time in the thirties?
JL: Gosh, I 'm not really sure; but I would say over, well three, four hundred. And most of the large houses, there was two families. One family lived upstairs and one downstairs. There just really wasn't that much room.
PN: How many houses were there? Do you have any estimate of that?
JL: Well, I'd say maybe around the hill there was around 60 houses. And on the lower level, on the street level, I would say there might have only been about 25, but there were also apartment buildings which housed, you know, a number of people in them. So I really don't have any close estimate on that.
PN: Did many people raise gardens there, or wasn't there room?
JL: Where there was room. Yes, everyone did. But there, like I say, there was so little land because most of it was on the hill, that some of them including my father used to go up between Thurmond and Stone Cliff on the river bank where there was room, and they had lovely gardens. My dad always had a nice garden.
PN: There were a lot of people who would do that?
JL: Several, yes, several did. And the ones who had room, you know, around their house or apartment, they did too.
PN: Was that public land, or was it owned by the C. and O.?
JL: Well, most of it was public land; a lot of it was C. and O. land. I had no Idea how much of it. But 1 believe that maybe some other, I don't know whether McKe11 interests, or just who did own the houses on the hill, or anything like that. And of course, Armour and Company you know, at one time was there. And, oh, when I lived there, they also had the telephone exchange, which they did not have at Oak Hill at that time. And we used to like to go and watch the women while they were working.
PN: How much of a walk would it be from, say, where your father lived to the garden that he was growing down toward Stone Cliff?
JL: Oh, I 'd say a good mile and a half each way, maybe two miles. It was a good walk.
PN: Did he go there a couple of times a week?
JL: Oh, at least. You'd have to do that. And then a lot of times, you know, the water would come up, and they would lose their gardens. And it wasn't very funny either, after they would work so hard. But he always had a garden, and really enjoyed doing that type thing. He was a type man that was always busy; he was always doing something.
PN: What type of things would he grow there?
JL: Everything that he could, every possible, and I used to go with him some times . I was always so close to my dad, and loved him so much, and I would beg to go with him. And he'd say, “Now don't step on my vines. And I loved the cucumbers and tomatoes. And I used to take a small salt—shaker and a little knife with me, and I 'd wash them in the river — what a crazy thing to do and eat em, you know. And he'd say, "I 'm not going to have any to take home if you keep eating them all.
PN: Were the gardens between the tracks and the river, or on the other side of the tracks?
JL: Well, going up toward Stone Cliff, there's no tracks that way. It's just below the road and next to the river bank. Which, when they had so much water at times, made them very fertile. So they grew, well in fact, there was one fellow there used to work on the railroad — I believe his name was Kirby — and he grew cantaloupe and a small, round watermelon. So evidently, you could grow almost anything. But my father usually grew a certain kinds of beans green beans, and corn, and radishes, and tomatoes, and cucumbers, and green onions, and that type stuff. He usually didn't try anything different, like cantaloupe or watermelon, but I'm sure others did.
PN: Did he, or some of his friends, ever go fishing or hunting much?
JL: Well yes, my father was a very interested person in all types of sports. He hunted for years and years; In fact, his father had a hunting club at one time. But due to this accident that he had on the C. and O., which part of his foot was removed, he used to say that his foot got so cold that he, you know, he really was miserable.
PN: This was your father?
JL: Uh huh. And we used to laugh because we'd say, "Well, Daddy you don't have that foot." He'd say, "Yea, but it gets cold. And we used to laugh about it. And then, of course, as we children got older, when he would bring, he was a very good hunter because he used to bring everything — rabbit and turkey and pheasant — and when he'd lay it out for my mother to clean, we children would all cry. And he'd say, "I 'm not going hunting any more. They make me feel like a murderer.” So I think between that and the fact that, you know, he was uncomfortable, he quit hunting.
PN: Did he fish also?
JL: Yes, he liked to fish, and was a good fisherman.
PN: What would he catch?
JL: Well, he liked to gig frogs too. And he liked, well all the fish that were in New River. And he would bring those home. And of course, Mother cooked everything that he brought; she knew how to cook the wild food. You know, they say that one of the things you must do with anything wild is soak it in saltwater overnight, and that takes away the wild taste. I don't know for me, because I won't eat it. I love animals too well: I would not want to eat any of It.
PN: What were the types of fish that he would catch? Do you recall?
JL: I was trying to think. I remember some of them that were so large. I guess the bass and, of course, some of them weren't very pretty looking fish. And I don't care for fish; I've never eaten it so I'm not that familiar. My husband probably could tell you exactly, because he's fished some down there too. But I not that familiar with the type of fish. But I have seen fish that, in fact a Mr. Bennett that used to be there came in the post office one day and he had one strung over his back that almost reached below his knees — huge fish.
PN: Was that a catfish of some kind?
JL: I guess. They talked a lot about catfish, so I assume that was the kind it was. And there are people who really — especially those that use trot—lines who really catch an awful lot of fish. And there's good fishing in the river.
PN: When they fished by trot—line, would they string it from one side to the opposite side?
JL: Uh huh, yes. And then they would usually, a certain time, and then they would go back several hours later then, you know, and get what was on the line.
PN: What did they use for bait?
JL: Well, they used to use pieces of meat and hellgrammites, and each one seemed to have a different thing that he thought was the best to catch fish.
PN: Someone was telling me he used pickled corn for that.
JL: Yea, all kinds of things [laughs]. So everybody'd say, "Well this is how I caught my fish"; so, you know, that's what they always used. So you can't hardly what, you know, what they all used. And I really don't remember what my father used. And my father died when he was young; he died instantly — he had a coronary thrombosis when he was 46 years old. Had never been ill a day in his life, and just fell on the floor, and he was dead. So this was a terrible shock at my age; at that time, 1 was 19. It was really a very, well it was one of the first things I think in my young life that really upset me.
PN: He had worked on the railroad his whole life?
JL: Yes, he was a conductor. And his father died exactly the same way, and he was also a young man, also a conductor for the C. and O.
PN: Where was your father born?
JL: My father was born at Keeneys Creek, we think. We do not have, the birth certificate does not list this; we don't know why. We’re in the process now of finding out, but we think it's Keeneys Creek.
PN: Do you know where his father was born?
JL: I was going to say, my father was born in 1897 . His father was born somewhere in England; his name was Tommy Bannister.
PN: What did he do?
JL: He was a conductor.
PN: When he was in England, did he work at all in England?
JL: I believe he must have come over here when he was a young man, and his wife also, my grandmother was also from England.
PN: Really? What did your mother's father do for work when he was here?
JL: My mother's father? His name was John Musgrave. And he was born in England, in Birmingham. And he was a guard for Queen Victoria. And then when he came to this country, he was like a foreman, a boss in the mines. And he was also a baker, and two of his sons took up this trade, which they later went into other fields. But the two sons, Gene and John, both at one time were bakers. In fact, my uncle Jim Musgrave died last month at the age of 84. And he lived here in Oak Hill and worked in a bakery at one time, years ago.
PN: Back in the 1930s again, when you first moved to Thurmond, were there many Black people that lived there at that time?
JL: There were no Black people who lived in the city limits. There was a Black lady who was a maid — in fact, she was our maid for several years her name was Tulip Mann.
PN: Tulip Main?
JL: Mann, M-A-N-N.
PN: And Tulip was her first name?
JL: Yes. And everybody knew Tulip because she was a very good worker. And I understand that she's working as a maid in New York now, and has been there for several years. every day. And of course, my was born, she raised him till But she was with mother and I both he was about four us for a number of years, worked. And after my son years old, Tulip did.
PN: Did a number of Black people live on the south side of the river?
JL: Not too many. Most of our Black people came from somewhere in Virginia. I tm trying to think of this county where most of them came from.
PN: Buckingham County?
JL: No, I can't think of it it was right on the end of my tongue — but I can't think of it right now. And they were the nicest, the colored people or Black people, whatever you want to call them, that anybody would want to ever meet. And most of them worked either on the track or the shop. And there were, some of them, there were three brothers, or there'd be two brothers. And they would come and stay all week, and then they would go back home to Virginia on the weekend. Because the trains ran such hours that they could do that. They would finish their job at three o’clock, and then catch a train at six, and they'd be home ten, eleven o'clock. And then on Sunday night, they would come in on what we'd call Forty—Seven, the fast train. And then they were there to go to work on Monday morning.
PN: Where did they live when they were in Thurmond?
JL: Most of them lived across the river. The C. and O. provided, well they were like a car that was enclosed, like a tool car that they used, and they were fixed up and pretty nice inside. And most of them lived there through the week. But they all lived on the south side.
PN: Are some of those cars, you can see…
JL: Those gray structures?
PN: Yea, you see on the left—hand side of the road.
JL: As you come down the hill?
PN: Yea.
JL: Exactly.
PN: That's the type of thing…
JL: That's right, that's right.
PN: Were there a lot more of them there at that time?
JL: Yes, oh my goodness, I have no idea, but all the way up on that side, where there was room, they were all, several of them. And of course, I would say that most of them, there might have been three to four men to a shack; maybe some of them had two in the buildings. And they were painted gray, and used coal to heat. And I would say they were not the best places to stay, but at that time, you know, things were a lot different than they are now. And I 'm sure now, they would have had better accommodations.
PN: Is that Dunloup Creek that goes up that way?
JL: There's Dunloup and there's Arbuckle, and I believe that's Dunloup Creek that comes down there. And I believe that Arbuckle comes down there on the south side into New River, if I'm not mistaken. [Dunloup flows through Glen Jean and into New River from the southwest, just to the south of Thurmond; Arbuckle flows through Minden and into New River from the northwest, just to the west of Thurmond.]
PN: That's interesting.
JL: Well, and on the south side, they had two stores, which, you know, they now have the Banker's Club. [The Banker's Club is not on the south side.] And it was a really big store. And they also had a place where they sold beer and that type of things, and people could go and sit and talk and drink beer. And when 1 moved there, the Collins Funeral Home was also on the south side.
PN: I was noticing a picture in the Banker's Club — an old photograph — and the street was really crowded with everybody walking up and down.
JL: Yes, there were so many people all the time. And there was always something going on. The men were either going to work, or coming from work, or their ladies were having — I think at one time they had, well I know they had Ladies' Aid and they had like a garden club. And there was always something going on. And so there was always a lot of people on the street, either going to the post office, or going to the store, or whatever.
PN: I was noticing in one of those pictures, there seemed to be a bunch of Black men walking around. Would they be people working on the railroad, or would they be miners that had come in from some of the towns around?
JL: We never had any miners that I would think of to come in there.
[This is contradicted by several of the other interviews, and seemingly by her own statements immediately following.]
Mostly, they were just railroad people. They'd come in, mostly they, from Sewell and all these places, they had to come there to do their banking, and to buy their supplies, and to catch the trains, and this type thing. And then of course, maybe a lot of them were just standing around on the tracks, you know they worked on the tracks. They would bring the crews in there, and sometimes you'd see hundreds of them, it looked like, working on the tracks. [The Black men in the photograph were dressed up, wearing suits.] They really kept them up. Of course then, they didn't have all the machines that they have now, so they had to use a lot of crews to keep the ballast and the ties and things up to standards, what they should be.
PN: Were there many immigrants from Europe living in Thurmond about this time?
JL: No, not at this time. I would say earlier there were quite a few.
PN: Earlier?
JL: Uh huh, in earlier years. I'm sure that a lot of them came in there on the train, and stayed there at either one of the hotels either the Lafayette or the Dunglen and then later went to Glen Jean and
Mt. Hope and places like that.
PN: You mean to work in the mines.
JL: Mm, uh huh, yes. But we didn't have very many.
PN: If there were Polish or Hungarian or Italian people, they would often come in for a while, but they basically worked in the coal mines?
JL: I would say that, yes, uh huh. Thurmond, you know, was really just a railroad town — that's all. So it was usually only people that came in there either to do business with the railroad, or some of the stores, or something there but, you know, would stay. Or they came to see the Dunglen, and see what the place looked like, because there was so much talk about it. And of course, they talk about how wild it was, and I’m sure it was at that time. But we, when the time we went there, there weren't things like that.
PN: But it may have been wilder before?
JL: Oh yes, I'm sure — they told the truth about it; it was pretty wild. But I don't like to hear them call it "Dodge City”, because it was not like that. It wasn't like that at all. It may get that name, but then there's been several articles written to say that it was not like that.
PN: What was the town that the Dunglen was in?
JL: Well, the Dunglen was on the south side of the river.
PN: Was it a separate town?
JL: No, well no, they just said Thurmond. But it was on the south side, and the Thurmond city limits really started kind of in the middle of the town. It was real weird; I don't know why this ever happened. In fact, even the depot was not in the town of Thurmond itself, what they called the city limits. And one of the big stores the Collins Mercantile — when they first opened up, it was not in the city limits. When I moved there, we had a nice, we had a lovely school, up to the eighth grade. And I was trying to think of some of the different things that they had there. Had a place to eat called the Dog Wagon, right at the, close to the station across the tracks. And in the depot, they also had a place to eat, in back. Mr. Wells, they called him "Pop" Wells, a really nice old gentleman. And there was a place to have, we had a skating rink, and a place to dance, and of course we all loved to go swimming on the river bank. We had our own place, a lot of people went up Stone Cliff and went swimming, but we had our own place just below my home in Thurmond. So we just would always put our bathing suit on, a pair of old shoes, and grab a towel, and go to the river.
PN: Was it dangerous at all to swim in parts of the river?
JL: Very dangerous! This is the most dangerous river that I have ever heard about or have ever knowed anything about or ever swam in. It is very dangerous.
PN: Would you go swimming in areas that were smoother water?
JL: Not really, not really. The Indians call it "The River of Death”. And the thing that's so strange about New River is the current. Now you could, we would step in the water today and maybe it would only be two feet deep. And the next day we might step in that same place in a hole over our head.
PN: The base of the creek or the river would shift that much?
JL: That much. And you never knew, and there was such a current sometimes that you would step in it and just not know whether you were even going to get out of it, you know. And it was really very strong. Of course, I used to swim across. The first time I ever got a spanking was for swimming the river. [laughs]
PN: Was that what they called silt in the bottom of the river?
JL: Yea, there is…
PN: And that would just shift?
JL: Right, and the sand, you know. And of course the current's so strong, this is what does this.
PN: Were the currents different from time to time?
JL: Oh yes, and the river runs in a different direction than most rivers. It runs, how do you say that Ralph [her husband]? New River…
PN: It goes north, doesn't it?
JL: Yes, it runs north; most rivers don't run, this way.
PN: Were there whirlpools and things like that in the river?
JL: Yes, yes. There were a lot of them underneath, not on top. You would feel this, you know, around your feet and legs. And of course, the first one that would go in, they'd say, you know, "Don't come in here; it's over your head. I mean, as soon as you walked out three or four feet. And of course, we learned to be very careful; we knew that river was dangerous. And In fact there have been several drownings [sic].
PN: Back then in the thirties?
JL: Yea, well, right up to the time we left there, about every year or two, someone of people would and too many in would get drowned. And anyone who came down there, a lot come to the river to fish, and they ended up drinking, a boat, and there were a lot of drownings.
PN: You were talking before about some of the different buildings and structures in Thurmond in the thirties. Were there any bars or saloons there?
JL: Well, of course, the one over at Pughs, you know, it was on the back side of the store. And like I say, it sold beer. But there was no one that sold whiskey outright that I ever knew about. We had another, what we called a beer joint. That was in one of the first buildings up there.
PN: Was it on the Thurmond side of the river?
JL: Uh huh; it was on the main street.
PN: Did people sell moonshine much?
JL: I guess they did, but at that time, I never knew anything about it. My father was not much of a drinker, for the simple fact that he couldn't; it made him sick. He always, well most of the railroad men usually kept them, I 'd say a pint or a fifth. And when they'd come in at night, cold to the bone from riding the back of the trains and things like this, they would always fix what they called a hot toddy with lemon juice, and spices, and something to make it real hot. And then they would take a bath and go to bed. But we didn't have a lot of town drunks; we had a few [laughs] like every town has. But most of the people were just hard—working, honest, fun—loving people. They liked each other. And everybody knew everybody else and everybody s business. And it was a strange thing, but when someone would get sick and the ambulance would come, there would always be plenty of people there to help load them in the ambulance or do anything they could. It was just like one big family really; that's how we all felt.
PN: Did many people eat their meals out in restaurants and the hotels, like some of the single men who came in to work?
JL: Oh yes, there were a lot of men, of course, that lived there all week. And they certainly, they ate all their meals either in the Lafayette Hotel or the restaurant that was there or the beer joint that had, they usually served hot dogs or something of that type, maybe soup or chili or something. But yes indeed.
PN: So that would be different than say, from the typical coal town that would be along the river?
JL: Well, see we never considered this a coal town [misunderstands the question], which is altogether different from a mining town. It was a, it was a, we just didn't know anything about mining, or miners, at all, because we were just railroad people. That's all that was there. And it was just, really it was a lovely little town — it really was. And I hated to leave it.
PN: In the thirties and the early forties, when you said that you started to work, In what, 1942?
JL: Yes, I went to work.
PN: Were there many women working at that time?
JL: Not too many, no. I think there was maybe one in the grocery store; and well, I'd say, three or four in the restaurants; and 1 know there was two or three in the drugstore which was, oh it was a lovely drugstore for that size town; and oh, let's see, there was I think one, one or two that worked in the Dog Wagon. But there were not, most women just stayed home and took care of the children, at that time.
PN: You were working in the telegraph office of the C. and O.?
JL: Yes, I went to work there. And I think I went to work with them in '43, maybe ‘43, ‘44
PN: Were there other women working with you at that time?
JL: Yes, there was about nine of us at the time.
PN: And that was in part because of the war?
JL: Right, and that so many of the young men had gone to service.
PN: Were you the first women doing that type of work there for the C. and O.?
JL: Yes, we were. In fact, I think about 12 of them even went into Kentucky and helped out in places that they had down there Ashland and places like that. And we worked all over the division. And the reason that I did not work more places is because at the time I only weighed 109 pounds, and there were a lot of the switches in the offices which I could not pull. But I was not able to do, to do, otherwise, I would have liked to gone. In fact, MacDougal had, they were big hand switches; they stood about five feet tall. And you had to weigh about 120 pounds to even pull them over. And of course, they were the switches which turned the lights and switched over into a siding for a train. So it was very important that you not ever make a mistake. And at that time, you had 16 passenger trains running a day. You would have, some days you would have as high as five and six troop trains running through there.
PN: Through Thurmond?
JL: Through Thurmond; all the trains came through there. So besides all the war equipment and supplies that went through, not to mention all the manifests [fast freights] and the coal; so I mean you had a train running maybe all three tracks, side tracks, would be loaded; and your east and west bound all at the same time. And there would hardly be maybe 20 minutes at a time that you didn't have a train on the track, besides your yard engine going all the time. And of course, they were taking the manifests that brought in supplies; they were switching their cars into the yard. And it was a very busy, and you had to be careful, you know, if you were crossing the tracks to listen and to watch. And so it was very important that, when we worked on the railroad, we women, that we not make, anyone make any mistake. Because those tracks are so close that, you know, and if you did not give a train time enough to completely clear. In fact, there was a terrible wreck there.
PN: Was that in the forties?
JL: You know, I'm trying to think what year that was. I’m really not sure. It may have been in the early fifties, and I'm just not sure, but they had a terrible collision. One of the passenger trains was standing at the depot to take on passengers when it was hit by a fast train that went around the block. It was terrible. Fortunately, only a few people that were injured seriously; there were a number of people who had cuts and bruises and this type thing. But I think there was about five who were injured very seriously. But it completely tore up one car, just went right through it. And all the women in town that heard about it, and heard the noise, they called one another and found out about it. And they got up and got dressed, and took their coffee pots and what coffee they had on hand, and what they had to eat like donuts or cake — and took that up there. And of course when they found out the situation was as serious as it was because those people were stranded — they, by the time they got doc tors and everybody down there, then the C. and O. brought in a car like they use on a tool car. And they brought all kinds of stuff to make sandwiches. And I'd say there was quite a number of women who worked all night long making sandwiches, and they brought fruit of all types, and hot coffee and tea, and milk for the children. And we worked all night. And then the ones that were working, went home and bathed, and went back to work. And all of us got a bond from C. and O. in thanks for helping out.
PN: You mentioned before a little bit about the physical appearance of Thurmond back in the thirties . Could you discuss that a little more? What did the streets look like? Were they muddy?
JL: They had wide sidewalks which had cement. And they were swept and kept clean all the time, because each merchant would sweep and hose down in front of his place. And you couldn't really keep in clean though, because of the coal trains and the soot and all that stuff. Sometimes when the trains would belch smoke, as we called it, it was wet and It came down just like wet soot. And when you'd rub it, then you couldn't get it off; you had to go wash it off. And it was very hard to keep house in Thurmond; you just really had to work all the time to keep it looking clean. The windows and the porches; you could go out on the porch and sweep it at noon, and by four o'clock it was covered up with cinders again. It was not an easy task trying to keep a house clean, or curtains. [laughs] And then, you know, we didn't have permanent press; and we used, everybody used to put their curtains on those awful frames. Have you ever seen them? And your fingers would be full of nails and this type thing. And then punchers where you try to stretch your drapes and curtains and that type thing. So the women worked really hard Just trying to, you know, keep a nice house and keep your children in school. And then of course, the railroad men, you know, they didn't go out at evening. Well, they didn't have regular shifts. Well, the clerks did; but the firemen and engineers, conductors and brakemen, they were called out at all hourg of the night. Well, a woman had to get up and pack their lunch and get them ready togo to work. So the women were kept very busy doing their chores.
PN: Did many people grow flowers and house plants?
JL: Yes they did, yes they did. And like I said, the roundhouse especially, I remember that when I was young. They had one section kind of roped off, or probably had something fence, or something up there; and it was real grassy, and they had beautiful flowers, and a big fish pound. And oh, it was really pretty.
PN: There was a roundhouse there?
JL: Yea, that's a huge building across the tracks from the Banker's Club. That great big building.
PN: And they had flowers and everything around there?
JL: In the front of it, they had a place in the front, and they had..
PN: Towards the river?
JL: Yes, on the river side. And then in front of that, they had a bunkhouse where all the men who just came in there for the week, and they stayed there. I don't know how many men could stay there at one time, but it was quite a few.
PN: So some would stay there, and some would stay In the shanties?
PN: The colored folks stayed in the shanties. Then this was for the white men. And then a few of them stayed at the hotel — the Lafayette. And there at one time, there was a couple of places that kept roomers. Mrs. McClure, who was very well known and later run a restaurant in Thurmond, and she had roomers. And she fed the people. So some of the men stayed there for years. You know, they really liked it and she was a good cook. And I 'm sure before that there were one or two others who also had roomers. During the war, Mrs. McClure, the troop trains would stop there a lot of times to take on sand or water or coal or whatever they needed, or just maybe even to wait until another train had cleared — and these boys would get off and go into the restaurant. And she would serve all of them and never charged them a penny. And any service man who came home, and he would come there to visit, he got all his meals free. This is the kind of town it was. Everybody was interested in everybody else. And it was a town where, like I say, there was a lot of gossip. Everybody knew everybody else’s business. And everybody knew when anyone was sick or they needed help. And when they needed help, they took up money and helped them. It was just that type of place to live.
PN: Let me just ask you a little question. You mentioned this fish pond before; was the fish pond…
JL: With goldfish in it, yes.
PN: Which the company kept…
JL: They certainly did, they did. And it was very nice. And you know at one time, there was a turntable there.
PN: For the trains?
JL : Yes, the engines. And they would turn them. And then of course where the shop, the roundhouse — I don't know why they called it the roundhouse but they would pull the big engines in there. That's how big it was, and then they would work on them. See the tracks run right into the roundhouse. And I forget, I would say they could have three or four engines in there at one time.
PN: It wasn't round though?
JL: No, that's why I really don't know why they called it the roundhouse. It was a big, long, huge building. And then the men's offices were in the front. And then right in front of that is where the grass and the flowers and then they had a big, a huge sign up there to say "Chesapeake and Ohio Railway Company," and some little write—up about it and that type thing. So it was a well—kept, and the people kept the front of their stores and the windows clean, and they kept it up real nice. They really did. Oh yea, we had a dentist; I don't know whether I mentioned that to you. Everybody just loved, it was Dr. P. G. Young. I believe he lived on Beury Mountain at one time. And everybody loved to go see Dr. Young, and he was quite a character. And a friend of mine Helen Clark Thomas now, who now lives in Atlanta, Georgia — and she and I, when we'd have a toothache we used to go together, because we were both such big cowards. When one of us would holler, the other would, so he told our parents not to let us go any more together.
PN: Got about two minutes left here. Were there any baseball teams there like they had in many of the coal towns.
JL: Not really. They, you know, they just had groups to go and play baseball. But to have teams, no.
PN: I said, like they had in the mining towns.
[Her husband again said Thurmond was not a mining town, but a railroad town.]
JL: No, they didn't. They'd just have, the kids would always go and play ball and things, but they never seemed…
PN: No organized teams?
JL: I guess maybe because of the way, the hours that the railroad men worked. You know, they would work such odd hours. And a lot of times, a lot of them slept all day, so they couldn't get enough of them together to make a team. And they worked holidays, Sundays, Saturdays. When they were called, they went to work. And they didn't have, at that time, they didn't have vacations and all the things that they had, and if they were required to work another shift, they did that too.
PN: So they'd be working throughout Sunday, Saturday, Sunday, and the weekend?
JL: Right, they worked all the time. And if there was something that prevented, someone else was sick, then the guy might be called out as soon as he'd had his eight hours rest, he might be called back out to work again.
[End of Tape]
Oral History Project - McGraw, Tom 2025
Gauley River before Summersville Lake, Coal Mining communities at Gauley, Gauley Bridge,
MM: This is Mallory Meadows on June 16th, 2025. Doing an interview at the Canyon Rim Visitor Center. So if you will tell us your name and a general idea of when you would have been in or around the Gauley River.
TM: My name is Tom McGraw, and I actually grew up on the Gauley River in a little town called Brownsville, which was on route 39, going toward Summersville. I spent, pretty much all of my childhood on the river, enjoying the usual activities hunting, fishing, swimming, boating, I’d do a lot with friends that lived in the general area of the river.
MM: Around what years would that have been?
TM: It would have been from about 1954, give or take up through the time when I was, when I got married, which would have been 1975.
MM: So you remember the Gauley River before Summersville Dam and Summersville Lake were built?
TM: Oh, yeah. I remember going up. My dad would take me up when the dam construction began and the clearing of all the property, and we actually went up and we went on a construction road down over the hill where we could see the clearing of the trees and the clearing of the property. I remember the river prior to when the dam became operational compared to after it became operational. And it was quite a difference.
MM: So will you explain that difference? So maybe as you were a kid, you knew that they were planning to build the dam or the lake, what did the river really look like? Do you remember maybe how deep it was or if it looks different than it does now?
TM: It doesn't look a lot different compared to now as far as the terrain and everything around the dam, the dam didn't change that much. The one thing I remember about the dam that the change it made was certainly when the flood season came, the floods weren't quite as severe as they were previously, but also that the water temperature dropped dramatically after the dam came into being because river was a free flowing river at that time, and the water pretty much stayed warm. But once the dam came into place and the water began to fill the river from the bottom of the dam, which is because of the depth of the dam was very cold. Well, by the time I got down to my, my house, which is our where I lived during that area, it was probably 20, 25 miles, maybe. The water was much colder water to swim in than what we were used to, let me tell you.
MM: Do you remember seeing a difference in wildlife in the area after the dam was put in? Maybe different types of fish living there?
TM: Well, I think the colder water fish thrived. We used to fish and we used to catch bass and, you catch catfish. After the dam came to being, I got it a little, little. I was a little older then, and I didn't do as much fishing on the river as I did. I did those, but, I think more of the cold water fish came from came, didn't see as many catfish as I once did, not where I was anyway.
MM: So after the dam was built and during construction, do you remember what the river would have looked like flowing through what is now the lake?
TM: As best I can tell you, I've seen pictures, but it was like the Gauley River flowing downstream. Down where? The down approximately. Like where the boaters, the rafters and people put out of the river. And, there was supposed to ordinary West Virginia River and nothing. I mean, it really, it was just nothing extraordinary about it. It wasn't very wide. It wasn't, you know, it wasn't inordinately deep. It was just a meandering river coming down from upper Webster County.
MM: So before they built the dam, do you remember anyone saying anything, putting in the newspaper about doing this construction and their plans to create the lake and the dam?
TM: I vaguely remember the announcements about the dam, the, companies who I don't even remember who they were now that were building the dam, putting advertisements in posters around about picking the boys to do the do the work, particularly on the excavation and the, you know, the clearing work. I do remember that. I know we went up occasionally because it was like a Sunday drive. We'd go up occasionally to watch the progress, get a chance to go and see what you could see from from the, from wherever we were, which I can't exactly remember where we were, but I remember being able to see the progress of the the dam coming up. We did that a few times.
MM: So what was that progress like? Did you see the equipment scooping out the valley or just cutting down trees? What types of things would you have seen?
TM: Well, we got to see the initially we saw the progress in clearing, you know, the trees and stumps, houses and things of that nature. And then, as it progressed, I got, we got to see the equipment hauling, dumping, but I don't recall where they were hauling from. But I do remember seeing all the rock, the big heavy riprap that they were putting in the base and all that. So I do remember that.
MM: So there were a few communities like Gad that are now under the lake. Do you remember seeing any of those or going to any of those places?
TM: Never went to any of them. See, my recollection on that was, I don't think I saw any of them simply because where we were was at the main spillway or the dam itself was being constructed and not up away from it. You know, in back in more of the community, back in the hollows, as it were, other sorts of things. I don't remember.
MM: So do you remember maybe how your parents felt about the lake coming in? If you can remember that, maybe how they were, the things that they said about it, if they were maybe upset about it, happy about it.
TM: I don't think they had much of an attitude because where we lived, we weren't affected by river flooding as much as were other folks may have been in the in Brownsville. I lived up on the hill. All of our friends, we all communicate one way. They were always called the river rats. We were the mountain goats. And if you will, just some brief description, the, then it was in New York Central Railroad that goes up through goes up 39 and it went up to the coal mines, Nicholas County, Clay County, where have you. Then there was the river. Then there was housing along the river. Then there was a railroad track, then there was the rail there. Excuse me. There was route 39. All the property started up the hill and that's kind of where I lived. So I was out of the flood range. But I know that the people living on the river, who I had a number of friends live on the river were, hopeful that the dam would keep water out of their basements. To that degree, it it helped a lot. But we didn't really have much in my opinion, other than the excitement of the dam was coming in. It was creating employment. We were wondering how much Summersville was going to grow now. For several years it was just a little I mean, it was the county seat in Nicholas County, but it was just, compared to where it is now, a 10th of the size it is now.
MM: After the dam was built and the Gauley River was created, do you remember when rafting first became popular on the Gauley River rafting or boating?
TM: I couldn't give you an exact time, I know it was not long after after the dam got in. I can't even remember now. I remember vaguely that there were a number of people who were getting into some rafting. There wasn't the big companies like what are now on the river. Then it was independent individuals that had a raft, had a boat or something, and was willing to take people up and down the river. Adventurers went on their own and it just blossomed into all these rafting companies and what have you. I'd say it probably started. Let me see. Trying to think it in my hand here. A dam came into being probably in the middle 60s. Somewhere about there, I'd say probably the rafting industry probably got its initial start somewhere 3 to 5 years after the dam was in its best case. Yeah.
MM: Did it seem like there were a lot of local people willing to go on trips, or do you think that there was some indifference in the local population?
TM: I don't know that they know the local people. You mean as far as going rafting on the river? I don't think too many people did it. There wasn't this organized. Well, now, I mean, people say, well, let's go down the river, let's go fishing, let's go do this. And there wasn't a designation of all the rapids that the things like you have on your map here and, and the rafting company. So it was just people going and going and just going and doing that, raft going rafting, taking their chances. Most of Brownsville's people have had a boat or a raft. Let's go jump in and go down the river. And they do that. And I think that brought about the more of the organization with the rafting companies, because it was potentially very dangerous to go down the river. So before the dam was built that people really go down the river in boats or rafts. Not to the degree you have because you didn't have flow water.
MM: So to circle back on the community that you lived in, was it a mining community or just a regular toqn?
TM: Yeah. It was, it was a, it was kind of a combination community. A lot of the people that lived there worked at the what then was a Union Carbide metals plant, at Alloy. Yeah. And a number of them worked in the area, coal mines around about. And we could talk about that more later, but, it was coal mining, you know, blue collar community people were coal miners. People were truckers. Some of them worked on the railroad. We had people that were retired in the area. It was just kind of a cosmopolitan place. But but it was a working community.
MM: But it wasn't a designated a coal company owns this place?
TM: Oh no no no, no, no, I don't think there was any coal company owned housing in, in the in Brownsville. I may be mistaken, but I don't think it was. There certainly wasn't any tracts of land where you saw, you know, the, the postage stamp or the cookie cutter type of housing would belong to companies where they were all looked alike, except for maybe the color.
MM: So did you have any types of stores or businesses in the community?
TM: Let me see. We have a little mom and pop grocery store. Williams. Ella Walker yes. A couple characters, they were good. They're good people to work with. They been around. See, we had the store. We had a gas station for a while, and it kind of fizzled. We have beer joint. Oh. Had to have an obligatory beer joint. So we had a beer joint. And, you know, for recreation, the guys would get in the parking area across from the groceries, not the grocery store. Scuse me. Across from the gas station and the, beer joint, there was a, wide parking area. And on the parking, very close to the railroad track, all the all the all the older gentleman and the working people all showed up, particularly in summertime. Would all go there and they'd all pitch horseshoes. That was a recreation. And it was quite a quite a crowd actually.
MM: So, that was kind of with that was a kind of a little community working class everybody knew everybody kind of thing. The Gauley River is not directly connected to the New River until they come together to form the Kanawha River. But do you remember hearing anything about the mining communities that were along the new River? Maybe reading something in a newspaper or hearing someone talk about all of that that was happening down there?
TM: Vaguely. What what I remember was that my dad worked at the Alloy plant primarily, but whenever the plant would have, it's periodic layoff due to low water flows in the in the river, which meant they couldn't operate some of the furnaces because they were getting their power from the hydro plant at Gauley Bridge, which came through the this tunnel which was found, it started at Hawk's Nest Dam. When the when the water got low, they didn't have enough CFA, flow coming down the railroad to generate the necessary power to run the entire plant. So whenever those would occur and he would be laid off, he'd end up working for his brother who ran a coal mines up in Nicholas County. But I do remember him talking about trying to get jobs in coal mines up and around Fayetteville and up and down again there. But he always had a job. So I heard about the mines and knew about two mines. I knew people that worked in those mines, but I couldn't tell you too much about that from that standpoint, from that era in my life.
MM: So you mentioned the Alloy plant. Could you explain what that was, what they manufactured?
TM: Okay. It it has always been called the Alloy plant. But it was located in Alloy, West Virginia which is oh 4 or 5 miles or so down the river from Gauley Bridge. It was built in the 1930s by the Union Carbide Corporation, and that was part of the, if you've heard about the, you know, the Hawk’s Nest Tunnel disaster. Well, their construction of that plant was part and parcel of that, that tunnel project coming together. That's what they did was they built that containment dam, which is now the Hawks Nest Dam. And that dam then funneled through a tunnel, went underneath the mountain down to the base of Gauley Mountain, to a large hydroelectric plant that generated power with turbines transmitted that power through lines down the, I guess I would call it The Deepwater side. The of the of the river went down the down the river, crossed the river, and now the we went into what, their steam plant and they generated their power. So that plant then came into being. What they typically manufactured was silicon or silicon derivative types of metal for construction, for automobiles, for electrical components. They made actually one of the highest grade silicon metals in the world for that plant. And for a while they had one of, if not the largest silicon metal furnace in the world. Now, I don't know where that stands now, but at that point in time, it was, it was a pretty big deal. At one time, they employed around 3000 people. And, it was obviously a major employer.
MM: The Hawks Nest Tunnel disaster happened well before your childhood?
TM: That's correct.
MM: So we're not really going to go into that too much during this interview, but did your dad ever suffer any medical problems from his work at Alloy that you know of?
MM: He had some issues that he can never, never really get proven, but it's very likely he had some lung conditions from working in the metals plant. Remember, this metals plant operated for a number of years without any environmental protection directive I can recall. And I remember this one, I suppose would have been 16 or so when I was driving. I can recall that you could drive down route 61 down by the metals plant, and you could look up and could not see the tops of them [the mountains]. So the valley valley filled up with smoke and ash, what have you, people were always saying that you'd get up in the morning, you'd have to sweep the ash from the plant off the steps, off your cars and whatever this was prior to the EPA coming into effect and changing the whole dynamic of the way.
MM: Did the ash and smoke from the plant extend all the way to, say, Gauley Bridge or even to where you lived?
TM: Not generally. That typically was concentrated right there in the lower end of the valley, somewhere from the plant westward toward Montgomery, right down that way. Mostly it settled in Alloy, which was the community associated with the plant, which really no longer exists. And Boomer. And then on down into Long Acre and Smithers. But that was the general area where most of the debris dust ad what have you settled from the plant.
MM: So does that plant still exist today?
TM: Yes. It's, it belongs to a different organization, has gone through 2 or 3 hands on over time, but it still manufactures silica metal.
MM: So things that you would have done when you were a kid, you mentioned that you would swim in the Gauley River with your friends. Did you have a sense of community in your town? How was the town to live in?
TM: Oh, it's a great place to grow up. It wasn't unusual for me to leave the house early in the morning. Come back and come back home was dark. And reason I came home when it was dark was that it was too dark to be out and play. Everybody watched out for everyone else. The kids, we didn't have, didn't have the troubles they have today with kids. It was my great, great environment.
MM: Once you grew up and you got married, did you ever use the lake to go boating or fishing or swimming or anything?
TM: I never owned a boat. But we have friends that did. Yes. My family and I went up there. We went to the beach, up there to usually, see which one was where you went to, I think out with the men, but we go. We go up to the beach or we had friends camped up there. We go up and camp around the boat with them, that sort of thing. So we did do some of the recreation parts of it. I've never fished up in there. I've never fished below the dam. I've never done that. I’ve fished below Hawk's Nest damn, but I've never fished below the below the Summersville Dam.
MM: Is there anything that you want to add that we have not covered so far?
TM: Well, you and I talked a little bit in preparation for this, or we're talking about some of the communities that may have been that used to be there, that aren't there anymore. And I thought if you wanted me to, I will point those out to you on the map if you're interested.
MM: Yeah, we can talk about that and talk through where some of those communities used to be, and maybe what they were like or what happened there.
TM: Okay. Well, I gave you a little bit of a background of how the lay of the land was, as were on the Gauley, well, on the side of the river, on the route 39 side of the river where the road actually was. Or if you come out of Gauley Bridge, it's coming up, Gauley River, there's two ways you come up it. One, obviously, the road. The other one was you had the on my side of the river, if you let me say it that way. You had the New York Central Railroad went up that side. On the other side of the river was a spur line from the C&O railroad, which is now the Chessie. But seeing the railroad there now, that spur came up alongside the river and there were several places along side that river going up just within the area from Gauley Bridge up to about Alta, which was which would be three miles or so up the river. Okay. And there were a number of little communities that sprung up that were coal camps, maybe logging camps, logging community, but mostly coal because there was coal mines and coal operations on that side of the river. Well, one of the things that we talked about, if you come up, Gualey River on the C&O side, you're going to come up to them first. You're going to come up to a little town called Venetta. And this little town was a coal camp. The reason I know what I know about it is I went to school with a couple classmates who lived on that side of the river, and the only way that when I'd come down to go over and hang out with him or play with him, or do want to go fishing with him, the only way was I'd go down the river, go down a path on my side of the river, holler across the river at them. They bring the boat, come get me. And we go back. And I got to thinking about that. And I remember that they also had what was called what the railroad companies call a flat car. And they had one of those and it was sitting on the side of the tracks close to the house. So if I went to the store or they went to get something significant, had something more than you could carry the mile and a half or so out of that bridge back to their house, then they would put that flat car on the railroad track, push it down to Gauley Bridge, park it on the side or whatever, go over to the store. Gauley Bridge stores, it's nothing like that now. I mean, right where they are entirely different, but they get what they put their stuff on the flat car and they bring them up there. Whenever somebody would need to be buried on that side of the river, because there was a cemetery over there. I don't exactly know where that is, but there was a cemetery over there, and they bring the, you know, they bring the deceased up the river on the flat car and carry him up. They were the mules and that was the flat car that they got the stuff. So that little town was Vanetta. There was when I, when I was there with those folks, which would have been in the late 60s, there was the family of with the two guys, two kids that I grew up with, and there was another family that lived up in the same old community up on the hill from, in a more isolated place. But there was only a couple of families. Then you come on up to Brownsville, which is about two miles from Brownsville to Gauley Bridge on the 39 side. You get to the upper end of Brownsville, which would be another half a mile or so. There was a little community called Gamoca that was more of the, the coal camp community because it had the company store, it had a tipple. One of the mines were back up on the hill there, and access from there, it was it was not necessarily easy access, but it was an easier access to Gamoca because they had a suspension bridge that came from the Gauley River, the route 39 side of the river over to the C&O side of the river. So as you got across the suspension bridge, which is no longer there unfortunately, it had a rails on it so they could haul things across with platforms. I wasn't built to take heavy stuff, but you could bring a flat car across the river. To take stuff over there. There was, if you had the picture of it, you had a train station, company store type of thing here on down the river, on down toward the Gauley Bridge, maybe another quarter of a mile. And up on the hill you had a coal handler, a tipple. There was tracks there sufficient to handle a siding for train cars for hauling coal. And then if you went toward the other side going to the left, then you ran into the community of Gamoca where the mine superintendent and his family lived. Other people lived in there. There were it was a fairly, fairly sizable housing community. So when the coal played out on the those and obviously those communities just sort of disappeared. And then you went on up the river and the C&O trucks then crossed over at Belva and went on over into Clay County to pick up there. So that's kind of the community, if you will, in that area during the coal, during when coal was, you know, being mined a lot in, in that in that region. And I saw a picture the other day, too, by the way, of, I think it's one of your pictures, or it was a picture of the Devil's Tea Table, and it's up over actually to be it shows it coming in one way. But my grandfather, I don't vaguely remember it. My grandfather took me up the hill over at Venetta and we went up to the Devil’s Tea Table. I barely remember it and I couldn't find it now, I don't think. But I mean, I could find it, but I don't remember the path he took.
MM: So did your family live in this area for a long time?
TM: I would say they had lived there, we lived in the house my grandfather built. So I would say that he lived, the family lived there. Probably started, probably started somewhere in the 40s.
MM: Do you have any other final thoughts?
TM: No, but I'm sure I'll think of something to tell you later and you can write it down.
[End of Tape]
Oral History Project - Miller, Pauline 1980
Postmistress, Bookkeeper, Company Store Operator, Terry 1920's - 1970's
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.
Oral History Project - Monk, Herman 1980
Thurmond, Prince, Store owner & operator, Prince and Beury families
PN: Maybe you could mention a couple of the things you were talking about before. You said you lived inside the Gorge for 35 years of your life?
HM: No, not exactly. I said I worked inside of the Gorge for 35 years. That was at Thurmond and Prince.
PN: When were the years that you worked at Thurmond?
HM: 1927 till 1932.
PN: That was when you were with Armour…
HM: Armour and Company, yes.
PN: What did you do?
HM: I was office manager and cashier.
PN: Did they sell…
HM: Wholesale meats.
PN: How many people lived in Thurmond at that time?
HM: Oh, I'd be a—guessing; I would say 300. Three hundred people would be probably right.
PN: What was the occupation of most of them?
HM: Railroad men.
HM: Were there any coal miners that lived right in Thurmond?
HM: Very few, very few; most of them were railroad men.
PN: How would you describe the general appearance of the town of Thurmond at that time?
HM: Well, it was unusual, in that it had no street. It only had a side— walk. The big business started about 1900; that's when Armour had a branch, opened their branch there in 1900. Course, I didn't go till ‘27, but it was still a good—sized little community for the shape it was in.
PN: Were most of the houses in Thurmond like
HM: Well, they, very few people lived except maybe, a lot of people lived in apartments, but most of the houses were on the hill, back of the town itself, back of the street, the sidewalk.
PN: So people lived in apartments?
HM: Yea, yea. Most people in apartments. The Bank had apartments over the building, and several other buildings around there. I lived in an apartment over Armour and Company branch, over Armour and Company.
PN: Was that unusual to have apartments in the towns along the New River?
HM: Well, I don't know about the New River itself, but it wasn't unusual there . Space was scarce and expensive then.
Then you moved out of Thurmond in 1932?
HM: In 1932, and came to Beckley. Well, they closed their branch house there, and combined with Mullens and opened up a branch here at Beckley.
PN: When did you start working in Prince? Maybe you could talk about that a little bit.
ma: In 1944, I bought the store, and had others run the store for a while under my supervision. But for two years, I stayed with the company; then I quit in ‘46, in February of ‘46. From then on, I had that store and ran that store.
PN: That was a store that you owned yourself rather than running for another company?
HM: At Prince? Yes. I owned the store, lock, stock, and barrel.
PN: Was that the major store in Prince where people bought their food and…
HM: Yea, I would say that was the major place, yes.
PN: What did you sell?
HM: Anything, dry goods, meats, groceries, novelties, md anything else to sell. In 1949 and 1950, that was probably my two most prosperous years.
PN: ’49 and ’50?
HM: Yea, maybe ‘51 and ‘52, I don't know.
PN: What happened after that?
HM: The coal companies started to collapse, cut off men. And as they cut off men, I lost customers.
PN: Who were the majority of your customers in Prince?
HM: They had to be from up the creek, up Laurel Creek, up to Lay land, Backus Mountain.
PN: Was it mostly coal miners?
HM: Mostly coal miners, yea, then. But it developed later into more relief customers than actual workers. That's when I quit.
PN: Was that in the 1950s, or are you talking about a later time?
HM: No, I 'm talking about 1975; that's when I quit the store business, and rented it out to another party.
PN: So the store is still operating today?
HM: Yes sir, still operating.
PN: When we spoke before, you mentioned the story about how the town of Prince was founded and where the town got its name.
HM: It got its name by the people who settled it by the name of Prince, Robin and Dave, moved down there from Beckley, h-. Prince did, in 1870. Stretcher Neck Tunnel was being completed by the C&O, and was completed by 1873. I had an old account book that showed the sales by the store in 1873. And it showed, you know the C&O had hundreds of men working on that tunnel. They had no equipment in those days. They moved the rock and dirt by road scraper, and horse power, and man power, mostly man power. They had Italian labor. And this account book showed the daily sales, coffee, and most of it looked to me like it was sales fir bachelors, for people working on the tunnel. They'd have coffee, tobacco, md liquor. And they sold liquor by the drink. Now I don't know how they got by with that in the store, but they did.
PN: Was that the same store that you later took over?
HM: No, that was in the 1870s, '73 on up. That same family kept the store until '37, 1937. Of course, they prospered in their store. In 1873, when the railroad was completed from Richmond to Huntington, that opened up a great deal of trade here, by merchants going to Prince to pick up freight and all that. They really prospered for several years in that —— the counties of Raleigh, Wyoming, and Mercer, and even Logan — would go to Prince to get their merchandise. Would take days to do it, but they did it.
PN: Way from Logan?
HM: Previously they had to go to Charleston. They was quite successful, and finally, the family ended up rather rich. After they got making money on the store, lots of money, they bought coal land. I mean unmined coal, coal royalty, that made them rich.
PN: This was the Prince family?
HM: Yea. The principal of the Prince family was old man William Prince, and two sons and one daughter. They're all dead, and the last one died some five or six years ago. And the two descendents of the family were only, were two girls; they live in Charleston now.
PN: How did they originally get the money to buy Prince, or start developing
Prince?
HM: Well, 1 don't know. He paid a thousand dollars down, and that was ‘70 I don't know how he got the money, because money was mighty scarce. He'd been a I asked a kin to him didn't you know? He soldier in the Southern Army of the Civil War, and one time, and he jokingly said: t 'Why, Herman, stole horses." I can't vouch for the truth of that, of course.
PN: When was the first coal brought out of there? I heard it was, was it 1873 from Quinnimont?
HM: Yea, I think that's right. That's what the monument, there's a monument down there to that, whatever you call it, event. That was the Beury family who lived later on down at Prince, I mean at Beury. You 've heard of Beury? B — E — U — R — Y. They really made their money, the Beurys did, after they went down there.
PN: Between 1932, when you moved out of Thurmond, md 1944, when you began operating the store in Prince, did you live in Beckley?
HM: Most of the time I lived in Beckley, yes sir. A year of that I was in Norton, Virginia, for the same company. And I came back here in 34, in January '34, and stayed there till I quit in '46.
PN: When you began operating the store in Prince, what did that town look like then?
HM: About like It does now, except maybe a little cleaner. And fewer
people; there's more people that moved in there now, on the hillsides than there were when I went down there.
PN: Were the houses in Prince originally built by a company?
HM: No, by individuals, by the Prince people. They built houses and rented them, most of them. Now when I went there, that was the case. In '46 or t 47, they sold Prince, the Prince family did, except the two acres adjacent to the store there that's fenced. They kept that for a family residence, cause they all died and left.
PN: Did the Prince family own the whole town at that point?
HM: Up until they sold it in 1947, yes sir. They owned the whole thing to, up to wherever the line between Quinnimont and Prince would be.
PN: Was it the Prince family that originally built the homes?
HM: Yea. They had two homes for themselves; a son, he built a house on the precipice, on the bank above right back of the store. He lived in it for several years, twenty probably, and then he moved to Charleston. And the other one is down by the store, the family residence. Both of them been razed, gone, torn down, whatever you want to call it.
PN: When you began operating the store there in 1944, what type of people lived in Prince? Was it mostly white people, or were there some Black people living there?
HM: Well then it was mostly white. Mostly, T would say, a few coal miners, but mostly railroad men. As was Thurmond, you know, mostly rail— road men. The railroad worked a whole lot more men then than now. They really paid attention to the track then, and now it seems to be all gone to smithereens, as far as trackage is concerned. That's no indictment against the Chessie System; it seems to be all over the United States -- bad track.
PN: Would people live in Prince and go up and down to work…
HM: Well, yea. They, for instance, in 1940s, they would have 20 men on a section, maybe as high as 20 men. Now they have three or four, if they have that.
PN: What was a section? A certain length?
HM: Yea, they would go, say, from Meadow Creek to the bluff down below Thurmond. Or maybe the section went from Meadow Creek to the sand plant, which is at Thayer.
PN: The sand plains?
HM: Sand plant, where they excavated stone and ground it up and sold it as sand. They sold the sand mostly, I think, for glass—making. It had properties that the glass—makers wanted.
PN: What did people do for recreation in Prince?
HM: Now, I wouldn't know about that [ laughs]. After the toll bridge was built, they could come to town very easy then, after the toll bridge was in '32. Prior to that, they had to go to Thurmond, and back around, to get to Beckley. And they didn't go to Beckley very much then, as a result of that.
PN:Did they have any bars in that area in the thirties?
HM: Bars?
PN: Yea.
HM: You mean liquor, sold liquor?
PN: Yea, where people could buy drinks or beer.
HM: Yea, yea, there was one that operated there for, it's still operating, I think, in a small way. But in the old days, in the saloon days, the Princes had a monopoly on that. And they either operated their own, or leased it out to people. There was a saloon there for years; in fact, that was, account for some of their money, I imagine.
PN: The Princes?
HM: The Prince money, yea. And the fact that they had some thirsty people there, they had to a... That certainly was the case when the bridge, when the tunnel was being built. Cause that paper, the account book I had showed that everybody bought liquor.
PN: This is back in 1873?
HM: Yea, yea.
PN: That was primarily Italian workers, you said, that were working…
HM:I would say that, you know they, and Irish. There was comnunities in Fayette County that still have the people that, people who started, such as the Catholic communities, Like Irish ones that would go back in the country from Thurmond, the railroad and saddle [sic].
PN: did they come from originally? Did they come directly from Italy to work at Prince?
HM: I wouldn't know about that. I don't know how they got those a…But they had to have them, because that earth had to be moved, you know. They had the big tunnel at Hinton, and then one at Prince. That one at Hinton is larger than the one at Prince, longer.
PN: Then they built that, what would you call it, an aqueduct?
HM: You mean at Hawk's Nest? Yea. That wasn't started till 1928, and finished in probably '32 or '33, or something like that?
PN: Did you know anything about that when it was being built, when you lived in Thurmond?
HM: Well, I knew it was being built, that's all. And I could see the works from the train when ltd go to Charleston, or something like that. I was aware of it, but it didn't affect us any, either way.
PN: Because it had nothing to do with the railroad itself?
HM: Except in maybe hauling in material that they might have needed, which it would be small, I would think.
P N: When you lived in Thurmond between 1927 and 1932, did people come to Thurmond from other towns?
HM: Oh yea, Oak Hill, they'd come down from Oak Hill. They'd recently completed the road down the creek from Mt. Hope, or Glen Jean, to, I think. Well the first time I was ever in Thurmond was 1924, and we had a hard road all the way down from Glen Jean to, recently completed, from Glen Jean to Thurmond.
PN: How did you get across the river? Did they have that bridge there at that time?
HM: Same as now, which is it seemed to be tacked onto the railroad bridge really. Have you been down there?
PN: Yes.
HM: Sure, Thurmond don't look like it used to.
PN: What was the major difference, many more people there?
HM: Well, that main street, you know, is absolutely nothing now except one concern there. I think that's the river people, that run the rafts down the river. Have you ever ridden that river yet?
PN: Not yet.
HM: Going to?
PN: Going to try. Did they have bars and saloons in Thurmond at that time?
HM: Oh yea, they had some famous ones. That was prior to my time, though. Yea, they had some, they had some rather famous, or infamous, there was one called the Black Hawk on the south side of the river, which is opposite from the main Thurmond. That seemed to be pretty much of a saloon.
PN: When you lived there back in the late twenties, did you have a radio? Did most people have radios?
HM: I bought my first radio at Thurmond in 1937, soon after I went to … That was an Atwood—Acute radio. I paid Shirley Collins $145 for a battery radio; this little thing right here [points to a small transistor radio] would be a heck of a lot better than that. But that's the way she went. Radio was new in them days. And I don't know when radio was come into general usage, but I would say 1925 or '24, don't you think?
PN: I think so. At Thurmond, what types of people used to live up on the hill there. Was that railroad people too?
HM: Yea, mostly railroad people. You see, the railroad was doing a big business in them days. I 've been told, and have read several times that in nineteen and ten, Thurmond's business exceeded by far either Charleston or Richmond, Virginia. The total value of money business. It wasn't no slouch in 1927 when I went there.
PN: Did people come in from some of the other coal towns, like Sewell or Caperton or Beury?
HM: Yea, on Saturday night, there was a train called Number Eight, a local train. They had so many people come from towns down below Thurmond there that they have to stop the train between stations so that the conductor could get all the tickets. And they, most of them unloaded at Thurmond. The sidewalk looked like Broadway there on Saturday night.
PN: What did the people come to do specifically?
HM: Well, there was a drugstore and a barber shop and the pool hall, and of course, there was two grocery stores, and they stayed open. One pretty good store, called Collins Cash Mercantile Company. The men in the mines down there, of course, they'd bring their wives and children too, you know. They had stayed on the job a whole week, and that gave them some bright lights on Saturday night.
PN: When did they go back?
HM: They had a train that took 'em back about nine o'clock, I think. 1 don't remember that exactly, but I do remember the incoming train.
PN: Did they have churches in Thurmond then?
HM: They had one church.
PN: What kind was that, a Baptist, or…
HM: I think that was mostly Baptist, yea. I not certain about that. I remember one preacher they had down there; he was a doggone nice fellow.
But I don't know what his, I believe he was a Presbyterian.
PN: In Prince when you lived there, how big were the homes that most people lived in?
HM: Of course, the two homes that the Princes built were rather palatial. But the homes built to rent, you might say, didn't amount to a whole lot, except they were homes.
PN: How many rooms did most of them have?
HM: They had enough to take care of the family, four or five rooms. 1 lived in a little house there close to the store that had four rooms; they were rather big, they had a bath, four rooms and a bath. I stayed in that little house for four years. Then the big Prince house became vacant; I moved up there, paid rent on it. But while I stayed in the little house at Prince, of winters, we heated with oil in a stove, rather than fool with coal.
PN: If there were four rooms in the house, what would people use the four rooms for usually?
HM: Two rooms for bedrooms, and dining room and kitchen would be combined, and then the living room. We got along very well in that little house; course we had two children, two boys, which they 're gone now. Incidentally, they're in Richmond, Virginia this morning. One lives near Richmond, Virginia; the other one flew in there last night from Chicago. They '11 be here later in this week with their families; be glad to see 'em.
PN: How many rooms did the Prince house live in, or have, when you lived there?
HM: We had unused rooms, I think about 14. Real big rambling structure, with a front porch that went around the front and one side. It was a nice house. Took a whole lot of money to heat it in the winter time.
PN: That's still standing now?
HM: No, no. 1 moved to Beckley in ‘54 , and it was rented after that.
PN: That was the last time?
HM: That was the last time, yea. He couldn't keep it insured, so he just, he gave it to a cousin, I think, and he dismantled it.
PN: In Thurmond, when you lived there, when people lived in the apartments, how big were most of the apartments that people had?
HM: Well, I don’t know, I really don't know. Of course, I visited one or two, but I don't recall how big they were. I know the apartment I had, it had, it was for employees of the company, you see. They had three apartments above the branch there. Mine was right square on top of the branch, and the rest of them over to one side. I had five or six rooms in that apartment there, enough that I could sub—rent some of it, and get my rent free that—a—way. Did you rent that directly from the Armour Company?
HM: Yea, I paid a minimum, I paid $15 a month.
PN: In your experience, especially back when you lived in Thurmond, what were the activities of unions back about that time?
HM: Well, until, until 1933, the unions, as far as coal mines is concerned, didn't exist hardly. They may in small cases, but not very much. They had no national union. I don’t think, until Roosevelt was elected in 1932. In 1933. I was over at Norton, Virginia. And that’s when they are reinstated the union and I remember, at the hotel where I lived, a couple of organizers were organizing the people. Coal mines were kind of like Thurmond, theres mines all around at Norton. Nortons in southern Virginia.
PN: So it wasn’t really until after Roosevelt took office that…
HM: The union’s as far as the mines, the union, the mine union was concerned {sic}, it became full-fledged in 1933.
PN: How about the railroad workers?
HM: They had a union then; they had a union then. But it wasn’t very active.
PN: Did it become more active in the thirties too?
HM: Yea.
PN: Let me just ask you a few more questions about the store in Prince. When you ran that, was most of your business with food, would you say, or…
HM: well, I sold everything, see, from groceries to feed to hardware and dry goods, I would say groceries maybe accounted for 50% of it.
PN: But half was a variety of other…
HM: Yea, it was a general store, more so that it is now, of course.
PN: Do you remember, when you lived along the gorge, or when you were working there, were some of these railroad—town and coal—town baseball teams popular?
HM: No, had been previously. Now Scar bro, in the old days that's much beyond my scope Scarbro had a big team. And they 'd play teams on the river, down the river Rush Run and all those towns down the river would have teams. Some of them, not all of them, of course. But the baseball had more or less disappeared when I went there.
PN: In ‘44?
HM: In'27.
PN: Was that a big form of recreation for people?
HM: Well it would have been then. I don't know anything about it, except I hear about these, Scarbro had, seemed to have a big team. And Beckley, now I did see some baseball in Beckley after I come to Beckley in 32. But I didn't hear of any down at Thurmond when I lived there. Well, of course, some people would talk about national baseball, but…
PN: When you lived In Prince, or, when you were operating the store in
Prince, was most of the population there white at that time?
HM: Yea, for the first, the first time, but then, the business grew, we had a whole lot of business from the coal mines. And they were probably half Black.
PN: Where would most of the miners come from? From right near by?
HM: No, there was, up the creek —— that's Laurel Creek —— there was Laurel Creek Coal Company, Hemlock Coal Company, Greenwood Coal Company, and Lay land. There was four mines up the river from there. Laurel Creek 'was the first one up the creek, Laurel Creek would be, that was three or four miles up from Quinnimont, and the rest of them were pretty well clustered together.
PN: Were there many immigrants that stayed in that area to work?
HM: Well, in those days, mines are not like that now, the men lived on the job. They had to, because they didn't have transportation. Nowadays, a man' 11 work 30 miles away from his job, he can drive his car right to his house or to the mine. It’s changed a whole lot. The method of mining has changed, mostly for the worse, I think.
PN: I was going to ask you what you thought about the changes that have taken place. Maybe you could talk about that a little bit more.
HM: Well of course, I don't know anything about anything as far as that t s concerned 'cause I didn't work for the railroad, didn't work for the coal mine. But I learned a little about both when I went to Thurmond. The railroad was very busy. Course, my knowledge of mining, I just had to, all I got in mining was heresay.
PN: What did you mean when you say that you that you felt that things had gotten worse over the years?
HM: Well, at least the men worked; they may not have gotten much money, but they had a job. It's different in that respect. Statistics weren't kept in those days like they are now, you know. You had no idea what the national picture was insofar as unemployed was concerned.
PN: But people could work more steadily?
HM: Yea, they did, they did work steadily. But, after the company stores got with them, they didn’t have much money left.
PN: Maybe you could talk about that a little bit. In your store, did you accept scrip of any kind?
HM: Oh no, we sold wholesale altogether. No, at Prince, you mean? No we didn't have no scrip. Credit and cash; mostly credit, to my sorrow.
PN: How did the company stores work in some of the other towns?
HM: Well, they had scrip, you know, the miner could cut scrip between pay days. In fact, he lived out of the store. The grocery account was paid, was supposed to be paid, on a pay—day basis, which was twice a month. They had an arrangement where you could buy furniture, something like that, on what they called “lease”. And they charged, their charges was a little bit exorbitant too. There was no bargains in the coal company store. And in some cases, later on, when the Depression came on, some of the coal companies kept from going broke by the company store. At least one I know, remember, of.
PN: You mean, they could make so much money there that that would…
HM: Yes, they could their work done, you know, very, very cheaply. And then they'd charge higher prices in the store, so that they made for gains. I know one store, a company store, I won't call any names, someone told me this, he said, ' 'Do you know what we charge for butter?" "Yup, I know. That would be about 32C a pound, then. And the coal company was getting a dollar a pound by selling a quarter, a quarter of butter for 25 cents and then getting a dollar for 33 cents. That was called high profit.
PN: Called what?
HM: High profit. And exorbitant profit, too.
PN: When the miners got their pay, sometimes they hardly had anything left?
HM: That's right. They settled up in the store, he didn’t have very much money left. Of course, he lived out of the store.
PN: When you operated the store in Prince, did many people have gardens there to add on to their food?
HM: Oh, very few, very few. One thing we did sell was seeds. I still remember the name of the seed company, Dien—Ferry; it was later Ferry— Morris.
PN: Did many people go fishing in the river?
HM: Yea, there was a little bit of fishing went on, but not a whole lot.
PN: Did many people have animals at that time? Hogs or…?
HM: No, by that time, they were a little bit scarce. 1 remember, I had to build a fence to keep a certain man's cows out of our place at Prince, but that didn't last long. When they went out of business, why that was about all. No stock running out, or none in their homes even. It wasn't a farming community, you know.
PN: Did the miners or railroad people have, keep any animals, like hogs or goats?
HM: Not many, very few. Now they may have in the old days, but very few in my time.
PN: Well, is there anything else that you think's important that should be mentioned?
IN: No, I think we’ve covered the waterfront pretty good. That's about all I know, anyway.
