Bob Menarcheck
Ridge Valley is the story of a mining town, located in the vast Connellsville Coke region in Southwestern Pennsylvania. Founded in the early 1900’s the Ridge Valley mine was worked by hundreds of European immigrants to extract its treasure.
Growing up in the “Patch” in the late teens and early 1920’s are teenagers John, Jerry, Bull and Corky who soon face a calamity at the mine that immediately propels them into adulthood.
In Carbon Hill, Alabama, Leroy Johnson, a Negro teen will accompany his father north. Willie and his son join them along with many other recruits from the south to work in the northern coalfields. Leroy will become friends with John and because of his father’s illness faces the reality of becoming the head of his family.
The workers, in order to gain a fair wage; recognition of a union and a “checkweigh” man to work with the company weighmaster, face the dictatorial control of the Coal Barons, The miners go on strike and face the industrialists who use their power to hire their own Coal and Iron Police to help destroy any union organizational plans. John will be directly involved with the clash of wills between the two groups.
Read about Patty the old miner, Bella the matriarch of the Johnson family, Willie, Dolly, Tony, Rufus and the people living, surviving, and dying in the coal mining ‘Patch” of RidgeValley.
Bob Menarcheck lived in the coal mining Patches in Southwestern Pennsylvania. Bob graduated from St. Procopius Elementary School, Redstone High School, California State Teacher’s College and the University of West Virginia. A retired educator from the Canton City Schools and Stark State College, he spends lime enjoying his grandchildren and writing, This is Bob’s first novel. You can email Bob at rmenarcheck@neo.rr.com.
Turning with a jerk, John asked, “What did you say?”
Jerry did not have to answer. They looked at each other, fright showing on their faces. John stood up shouting, “ Can’t be, my God, it can’t be!” A sudden rush of blood to the brain created a crimson flush to his face. A queasy feeling crept into Jerry’s stomach. Looking at each other they turned in unison bellowing, “The fan stopped, the fan stopped.”
The sudden stoppage of the fan created a deafening silence that took a few moments to sink into the brain. Once it became reality it was so pronounced it hit like being struck by a thunderbolt. The air fan at the mine that forever sent lifesaving air to the workers was silent. The lung of the mine was no longer providing ventilation to its chambers.
The women of the patch, who knew mining, realized immediately what happened. For others, it took a moment to understand but once reality struck the brain a sudden shock hit and hit hard. Without the fan methane gasses will build up rapidly. The fact is that without the fan providing air to the mine could mean death to the inhabitants inside.
The men who worked in the mines talked after a few drinks, about their exploits most often at weddings and funerals. They understood the dangers and accepted all of them without fear. All except one and that one was the lack of air in the shaft. They knew that without the fan operating methane gasses could accumulate quickly in the vast interior of the shaft. Released from fissures, cracks and crevasses, the gasses replace the good air with afterdamp that slowly sucks the life from its victims. Getting out quickly was essential, for if the damp doesn’t get you, an explosion from a spark is a high probability. The rats will sense the lack of air first and begin to scurry about searching for better air. The men hopefully notice the frenzy, questioning their moves at first, and then they begin to feel the change. The flow of air is stopped and the men now join the rats in a hurried procession to the cage. They must reach the cage quickly for a lift out of the bowels of the earth.
* * * * *
The storm clouds began gathering in the west during the early morning hours. Billowing white clouds curled higher and higher, building huge White Mountains in the blue sky. They pushed to their zenith and with no place to go began pressing downward. Gently, with a wisp of wind, the gathering fleece moved slowly, covering more and more of the once azure sky. Aging quickly in the distance, the overcast darkened into a leaden cover. Throughout the day fluffy whites moved faster and faster to the east. They raced ahead of the ominous darkening storm clouds in the distance.
“Wind a’ picking up, look at them leaves a’ turning,” said Bella to herself as she made her way to the outhouse.
The leaves of the gum tree turned up in the stiff wind, pretending to watch the cloud racing competition above. They flipped back and forth, holding on against a steady wind. Should they have a voice, no question cheers would erupt loud and clear for the whites to outrace their dark pursuer to the horizon.
“Big blow a’ coming, likely rain be here by late afternoon,” Bella said to Brownie as she left the toilet and started walking to the house. “Best we go in and close up the place before I leave to see the pastor.” She latched the back screen, and secured the back door. Shutting all windows, Bella moved to the front door. The outside screen, besides owning a long tear, also lacked a proper hook. A strip of cloth, torn from an old rag, was used to fasten the front screen door. A sudden burst caused Bella to retreat quickly, closing and bolting the wooden door.
Bella lit oil lamps in the living room and kitchen then began a fire in the stove. The fuel she added caught quickly. Burning hot from the pull of the breeze, gusts of wind gave the flames more and more oxygen causing the fire to burn even hotter. The top of the stove turned into a red hue. The central section became a crimson red. The lightning cracked, thunder rumbled and the wind banged debris against the side of the house. Bella cleaned up the kitchen after supper. Following her routine since her two men left, she sat in the living room and read her Bible. The low-hanging clouds produced a steady rain and created an early dusk atmosp
