Thirty-Seven Miners Died Because They Stayed to Fight the Fire

Franklin, Wash., Aug. 24.—At 11:43 o’clock fire was noticed by some of the drivers on the sixth north level, and notice was given to the men inside, who were working in different places, some in the breasts above the level and others along the gangway. As soon as it was known that there was a fire, many of the men in the gangways rushed back to notify the miners farther in, while others rushed out and reached the main shaft. It is certain that all the men in the breasts reached the gangway in safety. In all about seventy men were at work in the sixth level north, and of that number about forty lingered at breast sixty-two, where the fire originated, and made an attempt to put out the fire. The breast was burning fiercely, and before the miners knew it the fire had communicated to breasts sixty and sixty-one, and smoke began issuing from breast sixty-one. Several of those who lingered at the burning breast sixty-two took warning and fled, but all who remained were overcome and asphyxiated. It is evident that all the men had time to come out, for those at work in the farther breast reached the shaft in safety, while those who were nearest the shaft, and consequently more removed from danger, perished. They evidently believed they were in perfect safety from the fire, but while they lingered the smoke boxed from some outside place farther south, and the bodies were all found south of breast sixty-two within a space of a few feet. Several men were badly bruised, and one man was taken out with a broken neck, their wounds indicating that they had thrown themselves against the posts and timbers of the gangway in a wild and desperate endeavor to escape. But the majority of the bodies bear no marks at all, not even a scratch, and their features were in quiet repose, indicating that their death had been speedy and painless.

As soon as the alarm whistle sounded from the engine house, people began to crowd around the mouth of the slope, and the cry “The mine is on fire” quietly spread throughout the town. Among the first to reach the scene was Superintendent W. T. Ramsey. He tried to appear unconcerned and really did not believe that lives would be lost, and the crowd of men, women and children of both colors who lived near the track roundabout, becoming reassured at the careless and good-natured manner of the superintendent, began to treat the whole affair as a huge joke, and “joshing” each other. In a short time, however, word came for help, and then, when the superintendent called for volunteers to go into the mine, there was great excitement. The first man to volunteer was George W. Smalley, a negro, and with two others he was lowered down the 600-foot slope to the sixth level. There he met men from the sixth level south, who were doing all they could to rescue the men on the north side of the same level. Other rescuers went down from the surface, and C. C. Todd, John Adams and John Morgan found the body of the first man in the gangway, about 1,000 feet in from the slope. The body proved to be that of John Q. Anderson, and it was pulled to the top of the slope.

The arrival of Anderson’s body on the surface was the first intimation to the men, women and children on the surface that any one had met death. Consequently when the body was carried away there was a wild scramble to discover its identity. When it was found the rescuers were besieged with questions from mothers, fathers and children concerning loved ones who were imprisoned. But their questions were only answered by an ominous shake of the head. It was at first thought that Anderson was not dead, but after being worked with for ten or fifteen minutes and no signs of life appearing he was given up.

Meanwhile the miners from the other levels were carrying on the work of rescue in the bowels of the earth. The fan keeping the air current in the mine had been stopped at the first indication of fire from the return air-course, but when the rescuers went to work the fan was started up and thus the air in that part of the gangway south of breast sixty-two on the sixth level was kept pure.

M. D. Story, one of the rescuers who went in from the surface, upon reaching the sixth level north, ran along the gangway. At 1,000 feet in he found the first body, and then the rest of the miners were found scattered along in a row. In one place eight men were found together, and in another one man was found under a mule, five mules in all being dead. Story says that the men were all lying in the middle of the gangway with their faces in the mud, as if they had tried to bury their heads completely and thus escape the deadly and noxious coal smoke. He could not believe that they were dead, and turned them with their faces up so they could breathe, but he was soon satisfied that they were dead. Nearly all the bodies were found south of the burning breast.

John C. Story, brother of M. D. Story, was at work in the sixth level south when a boy named Chapman gave the alarm that breast sixty-two was on fire. Story says he tried to escape via the Green River, or auxiliary slope, but finding this impracticable, he returned, making up his mind that he would get out via the main slope. Reaching the main slope, he met others from the sixth level south who were going into the north level to do what they could to rescue their imprisoned comrades, and he joined them, working steadily for two and one-half hours before coming to the surface. It is his opinion that every man in line with the deadly smoke was killed within two minutes after the smoke reached them.

Of the rescuing party from the south sixth level was John E. John, a gas fitter, who is now numbered among the dead. His boy, Evan John, is also dead. The bodies of father and son were found lying side by side, showing that the father had remained in the gangway until he had found his son, but it was then too late and both died. Evan John, who was 19 years old, will be remembered as an ex-Seattle newsboy. He also sold peanuts in the Standard Theater about three and a half years ago. He was commonly known as “Peg,” having but one leg and a wooden peg serving as the other. At the mines he was recognized as a bright young fellow, and was boss driver of the sixth level north.

At the bodies began arriving at the surface of the main slope the excitement among the wives and mothers, and for that matter the whole population, became uncontrollable. At 3 o’clock the last of the thirty-seven bodies was recovered and the people began to quiet down. Many of them were completely prostrated with their sudden grief and devoted their time to methodically caring for the dead. Superintendent Ramsey, telling what he could of the disaster, said:

“As soon as the alarm whistle sounded, the man at work at the fan at the top of the hill noticed streaks coming from the air course, and not knowing the cause immediately shut down the fan. He did just what he should have done, and, had the miners not lingered so long at the fire trying to put it out, they would have all been saved, but the smoke surrounded them, and before they were aware of it they were overpowered and smothered. All those who were in 200 and 300 feet up in the breast had time to climb down to the gangway, and some of them escaped and reached the surface, not experiencing the slightest unpleasant sensation. One of the men who stopped with the others at breast sixty-two, seeing the danger was imminent, escaped.”