I never again will go down underground

“It’s a working man I am… and I never again will go down underground,” are lines from a song by Rita MacNeil. I had to have been no more than seven years old when I first heard that song. I never knew the true meaning of the song but I knew it meant much more to my father.

Since I can remember, I always had helped my father in our coal bin. I couldn’t stay away from it. I loved having my face and hands covered in dirt and soot. I looked just like my father when he came home from the pit, covered in black dirt. I can remember holding the flashlight as my father cleaned out the ashes from the furnace and carrying my little bucket of coal to the oven room to be burned. I just wanted to do what my father did because I looked up to him as a coal miner. I am and always have been proud to be a coal miner’s daughter. I always thought this way of life would forever be apart of our lives.

But I was wrong, it all stopped when the coal mines closed.

Between 1999 and 2001, the Cape Breton Development Corporation (DEVCO) announced that they were getting out of the coal industry. The last underground coal mine on Cape Breton Island closed in November 2001. The closing of the mines devastated the communities of Cape Breton. Since then, Cape Breton coal miners were forced into early retirement or left with no employment. The “lucky” ones were forced into call centers and forced to move elsewhere to find work.

Today, there are plans for the Donkin Mine to reopen. Xstrata Coal, a subsidiary of Switzerland's Xstrata Plc Group, has been awarded the right to develop the Donkin colliery by the provincial government. The project has been estimated by promoters to create hundreds of jobs for Cape Breton. It is also envisioned that the Donkin project will help provide activity for the Cape Breton and Central Nova Scotia Railway, whose railway line from Port Hawkesbury to Sydney has been unprofitable since the closure of the coal mines and steel plant.

When I first heard of this news one question came to mind, is it possible to go back to a place you had to leave behind? Hundreds of men and women who once lived this life of coal mining had to change their lives so quickly. Is it possible for them to return to the darkness of an underground mine?

With so many questions continually floating around in my mind, I knew I had to go back home to get the right answers.

Mary Miller, a coal miner’s wife, can remember when people went to work happy. She recalls a time when everyone in Glace Bay had a job. “Because the coal industry was the number one industry of employment, it helped the other industries,” said Miller. “It helped the fish plants, restaurants and the small stores survive. The town was booming with business opportunities.”

Miller said that after the mines closed there was nothing left for the coal miners. Most men entered the mines right after high school and they had no other form of training or education. Some families eventually moved away and some stayed and got whatever jobs they could find. “The sprit and life of the town is lost, life has changed, and we are no longer a town.”

Before I went back to Halifax, I decided to take a walk around the town of Glace Bay. I wanted to see how the business district was holding up and I wanted to hear what people were saying about the Donkin Mine.

I walked into a small clothing store and began to look around. I asked how business was. A lady replied with a little laugh and said slow. At three o’clock in the afternoon, I was her first customer. As I walked from store to store I kept getting the same vibe from everyone. Business is slow.

While sitting in Tim Hortons, I spoke with a man who spent most of his life in the pit. Angus MacDonald, a retired coal miner, can remember the darkness of the mine like it was yesterday. “The day I walked into the coal mine for the very first time, it grabbed a hold of me and to this day I have never been able to shake it,” said MacDonald. “The blackness of an underground mine is something you cannot forget.”

MacDonald’s son Daniel is planning to apply for a job in the pit once the opportunity becomes available. MacDonald does not like the idea of his son following in his foot steps. “Everyday we went to work we forgot the risks about working underground and because I love my son I want to protect him and keep him away from there.” Despite his fathers wishes Daniel still plans on applying for a coal mining job.

Most people in Glace Bay are hopeful that the Donkin Mine will help bring life back into the community. It is estimated that around 300 mining jobs will be made available once the Donkin Mine opens. This will in turn bring business back to Glace Bay and the surrounding areas.

Least but defiantly not last, I spoke to my father, J. MacLean. He told me that the Donkin Mine is one of the best mines in Cape Breton. The mine has a 10 foot seam and has over 40 years of good coal. Long wall mining will be done within a 700 foot wall.

“Cape Breton is full of good coal and full of unemployed coal miners and for years we have watched imported coal arrive in Sydney to be burned in our homes,” said MacLean.

My father is optimistic that the Donkin Mine will bring people back to Cape Breton. However, he said it is not enough to keep everyone here. “The mine will not be the same mine we worked in years ago,” said MacLean. He mentioned the new high technology and equipment that will be used. It will not be all man-worked anymore. Nonetheless, it will be good for Cape Breton.

So, now after all my research and findings, I looked at my question once again, is it possible to go back to a place you had to leave behind? My answer is yes and no. I learned that physically, 300 men and women will be going back underground after seven years of Cape Breton mines being closed. Emotionally, after all these years something was lost and I don’t think 300 new jobs will fix that. When those mines closed in Cape Breton, hope was lost and it ripped the heart and soul out of the community.

I look at my father and he is 60 years old now. He looks tired and worn out. All those years in the pit did a number on him. Twenty years later, I am still helping my dad shovel coal. But it is different now. Something has changed about the way he handles the coal. Years ago he could carry two buckets of coal at a time and now he can barely handle one. This coal is imported and the smooth black jagged edges weren’t chipped away by the hands of a Cape Breton coal miner. This imported coal is a constant reminder to him, to me of a livelihood that we have lost and unsure whether we will truly have it back again.

When the mines closed in 1999, I asked my father if he was still a coal miner, he looked at me and said, I am a coal miner at heart but I never again will go down underground.