22 Sealed In - poem by a W.VA. coal miner's daughter
In the early 1970's, I was a Research Fellow for the National Institute of Mental Health, and as such was conducting a study of elderly residents in high rise apartment buildings for low income elderly in Pittsburgh. One woman I interviewed was the daughter of a West Virginia coal miner. Since I myself am the grand daughter of a coal miner who helped organize his union, even when the Pinkertons came in to fight them, I was interested when she told me she'd written a poem about coal-mining families, and asked if I could read it. I was so touched by it, I copied it, with her permission. That was over 40 years ago, and I just came across it in some old papers. The term "sealed in" refers to miners who were forever entombed in mine collapses. This elderly poetess must be long gone by now, but I think she would be very pleased, and even honored, to have you take the time to read her poem.
TWENTY TWO SEALED IN
I hate working in coal mines.
My wife and children are always crying
Everytime I go down in the coal mines.
I keep telling them I can soon decline.
I am getting too old to work in the mines.
The children sometimes say,
Daddy, please don't go today.
We are willing to give up
Such as Christmas stuff.
Toy trains running on tracks
We only ask,
Please, don't go back
In the old coal mines.
Because it would cause an awful lot
of suffering and crying
If you don't come back.
If we only have these rags on our back
And this old shack,
We will have you
And that's a fact.
(Written by Ella G. Nichols, Age 67; copied by me on Saturday, August 12, 1972)
