When Joe and Tina Marshall purchased a home in the picturesque West Virginia town of Monongah, situated where Booths Creek flows into the West Fork River, they soon discovered they could not dig in their yard without finding coal.
The story behind their discovery is, curiously, linked to our nation’s first ceremony expressly in honor of fathers, a July 5, 1908 Sunday sermon in memory of the 362 men who died in explosions that ripped through the Fairmont Coal Company Mines of Monongah on December 6, 1907 at 10:28 a.m.
“The blasts caused the earth to shake as far as eight miles away, shattering buildings and pavement, hurling people and horses violently to the ground, and knocking streetcars off their rails. It remains the worst mine disaster in the history of the United States,” wrote Appalachian historian Dave Tabler in a December 6, 2016 post.
“Caskets lined both sides of the main street. The local bank served as a morgue. A special graveyard was laid out on a bleak hillside. Company houses flanked the burial ground. Rows of open graves were dug in the sodden, half-frozen, rain-drenched and snow-flecked West Virginia soil.
“The 362 casualties of Monongah’s coal mine disaster left approximately 250 widows and 1,000 fatherless children.”
Numbered among the widows was Caterina Davia who lost her husband, Vittorio Davia, in the disaster. Both had emigrated from Italy to Ellis Island. Vittorio’s body was never found. At the time of the explosion Caterina was 42 years old and she and Vittorio’s five children ranged in age from 2 to 12, the oldest being the only girl.
Feeling betrayed by the coal company for lack of compensation after her husband’s death, she vowed to make the 1.3-mile trek from her home to the mine to remove a sack of coal every day until she died; often making the journey twice a day.
For almost 30 years, she returned to the entrance of the mineshafts to carry away the coal that she then emptied into her yard. Eventually, the coal began to engulf the house. She said she did it to take a little of the weight off those who remained entombed. It also seemed to bring some sense to her delirium, following the tragedy.
Upon her passing in 1932, four of the children, who had relocated to various states, deeded the property over to their youngest brother, Oreste, who had remained with their mother until her death.
On December 7, 2007, memorials were erected in the center of the town to recognize the one-hundredth anniversary of the mining disaster. One memorial, titled “Monongah Heroine,” consists of a statue of a mother holding a baby with a young child beside her. It is dedicated to the widows and mothers of the miners who died. Catarina Davia is said to be the inspiration for the statue.
The centennial events ended on the hillside Mount Calvary Cemetery, where members of the Italian councils sprinkled soil taken from each Italian town from which the deceased miners originated.
Ann DeMary Eates, whose grandfather died in the disaster, expressed, “The ceremony is very touching and very heartbreaking at the same time–to lose so many. My mom was only two when the explosion happened.”
Nancy Laughlin, whose great-grandfather, Peter Urban, was one of the only miners to escape the blast, has heard stories of that fateful day for nearly her entire life.
Peter was one of only five miners who survived the explosions; however, the other four died later from their injuries or from gas poisoning. Unfortunately, Peter was to die 19 years later in another coal mine disaster when there was a cave-in that killed him instantly.
“Until I got older, I didn’t realize the impact of it,” Laughlin said. “They told me he was a different person after the explosion. My remembrance is that he literally crawled to an airshaft, and I remember stories that he had to crawl over bodies to get to that shaft, and he was rescued that way.
“It just gives me pause. We all have stories of our roots, and this is one of mine. I’m glad to be able to acknowledge it and be grateful for my heritage,” reflected Laughlin.
We should never forget our heritage, where we came from. Never forget the stories. There will come a moment when we realize the importance of preserving our memories. Appreciate they are a significant part of our inheritance.
Sometime, when we least expect it, as Caterina Davia and her five children discovered that ill-fated December morning in 1907, we will find we have run out of time to live them.
Former Cook County Commissioner Garry Gamble is writing this ongoing column about the various ways government works, as well as other topics. At times the column is editorial in nature.
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