by BJ Hoff
At the moment he felt a chilling doubt about his ability to handle whatever the emergency at hand might turn out to be. But at the same time, he prayed earnestly for the stamina, the capability, and all the expertise his profession afforded him to heal and to help those affected by whatever calamity waited ahead.
There was no telling what this day might require of him. He could only pray God would make him equal to the task.
Meanwhile, the mine whistle went on screaming.
TWENTY-FIVE
AT THE MINE
The hardest thing is to wait in vain.
ANONYMOUS
By the time Daniel reached the mine, a crowd had gathered as close to the pithead as they could get. Many of the men were elderly, their caps pulled low as they talked among themselves in quiet voices. Some of the women fingered rosary beads as they kept small children in tow. Others held babies while mouthing prayers with their eyes closed. Almost every face was a mask of tension or raw fear.
Small wonder, Daniel thought. The area was a scene of unbelievable destruction. A huge chunk of earth from the side of the mountain next to the mine had been blown free by the power of an explosion. Heavy fans and cables had obviously been hurled through the air, along with untold numbers of buckets and bricks and gratings. Timbers had been torn loose and hurled outside, while railroad cars carrying coal had gone crashing into each other, splintering the mine’s walls.
Smoke was everywhere. Thick and black, it poured from the portal and settled over the entire area, burning the eyes and throats of those who stood waiting, while thick coal dust coated the very air they breathed. Hacking coughs were among the sounds that broke the silence hanging over those who watched and waited.
What a grace, Daniel thought, that no miners were working today. He couldn’t imagine how many lives might have been saved because of the holiday.
On the heels of that thankful thought his glance landed on the mound of miners’ tags that lay scattered several feet outside the portal—
He caught his breath, his heart pounding in his ears.
If the mine was down, why are the men’s tags strewn about as if they’d been blown free from the board just inside the entrance—the tags of workers gone below?
Impatient for information now, he scanned the swelling crowd. His gaze landed on Dominic Murphy and then, standing nearby talking with a woman he didn’t recognize, Addie Rose. Dominic’s face was a dark scowl as he stood listening to Hugh Gormant, the mine super. Addie Rose appeared pale and drawn.
He threaded his way through the crowd of bystanders, nodding to Addie Rose but not stopping until he reached Dominic and the mine boss. “What happened?” he asked, his concern and impatience making his tone sharper than he’d intended.
Gormant shot him an irritated look. “Good you’re here. No doubt you’ll be needed.”
“What’s going on?” Daniel pressed. “I thought the mine was down for the day.”
“It was supposed to be.” Murphy’s quick reply was more a snarl.
“We had a small work crew on,” Gormant said. “Just a few men who volunteered.”
Murphy’s contemptuous expression told Daniel just how likely it was that the crew had been made up of volunteers.
“A work crew on Thanksgiving Day?” Daniel made no attempt to conceal his own skepticism. “How many?”
Gormant merely shrugged. “Seventeen men. They were up for making some extra money. There’s always work to be done at a mine for those who are willing.”
“So where are they? Not still below?”
“They are,” Murphy said. “A cage has gone down with a couple of men to check on those working, but no one’s come up yet.”
At that point, Gormant walked away. Murphy exchanged a look with Daniel, and there was no mistaking the mix of worry and anger in his eyes. “To answer your question,” he added, “all we know so far is that there was an explosion.”
Daniel stared at him. “Do we know where? Which vein?”
Murphy ran a hand through his hair. “Nobody seems to know much, except the thinking is that it happened in the second vein.” He stopped. “And as you can see, there’s a great deal of smoke.”
Daniel nodded. His own eyes and throat were burning from the dark black smoke thickening the air. He dug in his pocket for a handkerchief to cover his mouth as best he could.
“It’s taking too long for someone to come up,” Murphy said, his worried look just as noticeable in his tone of voice. “There should have been some word by now. You’d best stick around. I’m afraid we’re in for a bad time of it.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Daniel said.
“When we had the cave-in a few years past, the doc wouldn’t go down,” Murphy said, watching Daniel closely. “Said that being the only doctor in the area, he could scarcely afford to put himself at risk.”
Still speaking through the handkerchief, Daniel replied, “I’ll go down as soon as they’ll let me.” And he would, though the thought admittedly chilled him.
Murphy gave a slow nod of his head and a small, peculiar smile. “Don’t be in too much of a rush. Best to find out what we can first.” He looked around. “I’m going to go talk to a couple of fellows who may know more than I do. Stay close by.”
Shortly after he walked away, Addie Rose came up to Daniel. “How did you get here so quickly?”
“Actually, I was almost here when I heard the explosion. I was coming to sign the MacMahon woman’s death certificate. Your dad came after me.” He paused. “Bad business, what happened to her.”
She nodded, saying nothing for a moment. “It was strange, to say the least.” Again she paused. “There’s been talk. Or at least there was until this explosion happened.”
“How do you mean, strange?”
She looked at him. “Well, for one thing, what was she doing outside at that time of night? In this cold?”
“That time of night? What time was it?”
“After midnight, according to her husband.”
Daniel frowned. “I thought miners and their families went to bed a lot earlier than that.”
“They do,” said Addie Rose, her voice so quiet Daniel could scarcely hear her words.
It took Daniel a moment to respond. “So then, did her husband give any explanation for why she was up late? And outside, at that?”
He could see her mouth tighten as she glanced away. “According to one of the neighbors, her husband said that she…she often had trouble sleeping and would sometimes go outside to get some fresh air.”
“That doesn’t—” Daniel stopped, not finishing his thought that the husband’s explanation made no sense. What woman would go out into the night so late in this kind of weather?
Unless she was trying to escape the house for some reason…
He had all he could do not to blurt out his feelings of anger and self-disgust for not following up on Glenna MacMahon after she visited his office. As it happened, he needn’t have restrained himself. Not for the first time, Addie Rose seemed to read his thoughts.
“It bothers you that Glenna never came back to the office, doesn’t it?”
He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or awkward that, once again, she had arrowed right to the heart of his feelings. “I should have attempted to contact her. There’s such a thing as being too busy—” He broke off.
She studied him, long enough that Daniel began to feel uncomfortable. At least until she finally spoke.
“Daniel.” He was surprised, because she almost never used his name. She usually called him simply “Doctor.” “Glenna most likely didn’t come back because her husband found out that she had already come once before. If you had tried to contact her, you might well have made things worse for her.”
“Do you really think so?”
She took a long breath. “Based on everything I’ve ever heard about the man, I do.”
Daniel looked around. “I plan to talk with him before I sign the death certificate. Is he
here, do you know?”
She blinked, and then she said slowly, “He’s one of the men who was working below.” She paused before adding, “I’ve heard it said that Cormac MacMahon is always up front for making an extra wage.”
A chill tracked Daniel’s spine. Before he could stop the thought, he wondered now if they would ever know the truth about Glenna MacMahon’s death. If her husband didn’t make it out of the mine—
When he realized the assumption he was making, he felt ill and did his best to banish the thought.
“Are you all right?
Still shaken, he looked at Addie Rose as if she might have somehow sensed where his mind had gone. He struggled to catch his breath, but in that moment was spared the need to respond to her questioning look.
Someone standing close to the pithead shouted, “The cage is coming up!”
Daniel was tall enough to see over most of the crowd in front of him and close enough to hear the shout of one of the bystanders.
“No one’s with them! The cage is empty except for Rooney and O’Grady!”
Daniel turned, his eyes locking with Addie Rose’s stricken gaze.
TWENTY-SIX
TIME OF DESPAIR
Remembrance wakes with all her busy train…and turns the past to pain.
OLIVER GOLDSMITH
The hush that had fallen on the waiting crowd now shattered into a burgeoning swell of low cries and murmurs. More women had begun weeping with the others, while the men’s voices rose in volume and intensity.
Daniel saw Dominic glance their way but then quickly turn back to Judson Gormant. Their discussion appeared to be agitated, even angry.
“Da looks as if he’d best get away from Mr. Gormant before he loses his temper,” Addie Rose said, her tone worried.
“I’m waiting for Gormant to give me the word to go below,” Daniel told her. “I hope he doesn’t wait much longer.”
She turned to him. “Oh, Daniel, no!” As if surprised by her own outburst, she touched her hand to her mouth. “It can’t be safe,” she said, lowering her voice. “It must be bad, with no one coming up yet.”
“That’s why I’m going down. Those men are going to need medical attention as soon as possible. I’m not doing anyone any good by standing around up here waiting for news.”
The look of fear that cut across her face surprised him. He had to force himself not to make too much of it.
“It’s too dangerous—”
“I’m sure someone who knows the way around down there will go with me.”
“Yes, but—”
“I have to go, Addie Rose.”
She remained silent for another moment before surprising him again by putting a hand to his arm. “You’ll…be careful?”
He hesitated only briefly before giving her hand a quick squeeze. “Of course. And Addie Rose?”
Her eyes were locked on his face.
“We’re likely going to be here a long time tonight. If Dominic stays, I’ll make sure someone takes you home.”
Something flared in her eyes. “No. I’m staying. You’re going to need help.”
Daniel studied her. She was probably right. By now she’d had a great deal of nursing experience and seen much that wasn’t easy to take in. Even so, he was reluctant for her to witness some of the horrors he had heard could accompany a mine explosion.
“I’m staying,” she said again, and there was no mistaking the resolve in her tone.
“All right. I’m going to have young Ted Carpenter bring around the buggy. If you will, go back to the office with him and gather supplies. We’ll need to get together whatever we can locally and also put out a request for more help from some nearby areas. In the meantime, I’m going to stay close to Gormant and your dad so I can keep up with any news they get.”
After taking her to the Carpenter lad and quickly going over a list of items they were certain to need, Daniel made his way back to the pithead to continue waiting.
No formally trained rescue teams existed at the Owenduffy mine, only volunteers made up from among the local mine workers themselves, including a couple of foremen and fire bosses, as well as a few recently retired men. In what was considered a relatively small and unimportant mine, at least among much of the coal hierarchy, protective and necessary rescue equipment was almost entirely lacking.
Although few were experienced in rescue work—some teams were quickly formed on location for the first time—none were ignorant of the dangers they faced by entering a mine where an explosion had already occurred. Even so, they didn’t hesitate to step up for the harrowing rescue search.
When the first few rescue workers came out of the mine, they brought news of two of the most common hazards that could be expected in a major explosion: toxic gasses and impact injuries. One member of the rescue crew, Stan Poleski, had endured less than five minutes of exposure to the poisonous air. He appeared weak to the point of collapse, and the other two men with him weren’t in much better condition.
In addition to igniting a new wave of fear and dread—no survivors accompanied them—their preliminary report put an end to any hope Daniel had of going below to administer treatment. Judson Gormant told him that under no circumstances was he to go down into the mine.
“We need you right here,” Gormant told him, his tone flat and unyielding. “You saw the shape Poleski and the others are in. Don’t you even think of going below. When we start bringing survivors up, we’re going to need you and any other doctor we can bring in here to be standing by. We can’t take a chance on something happening to you.”
Daniel didn’t like it, but he grudgingly admitted to himself that Gormant was probably right. For the time being, at least, he would wait above ground.
They brought up the injured first, and Daniel was alarmed to see how few, at least in the beginning, had survived. Still, in spite of the small numbers arriving with each trip of the cage, he had his hands full, caring for the various injuries and doing his utmost to resuscitate those who were uninjured but overcome with smoke or black damp, the mix of nitrogen and carbon dioxide that could easily turn hazardous in large enough amounts.
Once Addie Rose and Ted Carpenter returned with the supplies Daniel had requested, he set the boy to helping some of the men clear the mine entrance of the debris from the explosion. He motioned Addie Rose to work alongside him, at the same time sending her back and forth to treat minor injuries on her own under his instructions.
Daniel was relieved, though not actually surprised, to see that even the horrific and shocking wounds didn’t repel her, though there was no missing the compassion behind even her more strenuous efforts. When he did his best to stop the flow of blood from young Caleb Riley’s injured arm, muttering to himself that he hoped the boy lived long enough to reach the hospital where the limb would doubtless require amputation, he noted only the slightest pause in Addie Rose’s movement as she handed him another bandage. But the glaze of tears in her eyes was all too evident.
“Tell me if you need a break,” he cautioned her. “I know this isn’t easy.”
“I’m all right,” she said, wiping a none-too-steady arm across her eyes. “I just wish we could do more.”
Daniel knew he was showing his own frustration when he replied, but he was too tired to mask his feelings. “We just don’t have enough equipment or the right facilities. I can’t do what needs to be done in all this dust and smoke and given the lack of supplies.”
She lifted her head and glanced across the unconscious Riley boy. “You’re saving lives, even in the worst of conditions, Daniel. Don’t expect the impossible of yourself.”
Surprised by the firmness of her tone, he bit back his thought that if he’d expected more from himself with the MacMahon woman, she might still be alive. He wanted to take Addie Rose’s words to heart, but ever since he’d learned of Glenna’s strange death, he couldn’t stop questioning himself and wondering whether he could have somehow prevented that tragedy.
“Doc
! We need you over here! It’s Tom O’Donnell!”
Daniel was jerked out of his troubled thoughts by Davey McNamara, a young newcomer to the area and one of the workers who hadn’t gone below today. By the time Daniel reached the still form of Tom O’Donnell, he sensed he was too late. Sure enough, his closer examination confirmed that O’Donnell’s injuries had already claimed the middle-aged miner’s life.
Shaken, for the deceased O’Donnell was a former patient and a member of his church, Daniel had to walk away from the scene and try to come to terms with the loss of the man as well as the other horrific events of the day.
Addie Rose followed him. “You knew him well?” she questioned quietly.
Daniel nodded. “Yes. He was a good man.” His gaze went over the nightmarish scene only a few feet away. The stretchers where lifeless forms still lay exposed to the cold wind, awaiting removal. The wounded, moaning in pain as they begged for relief or care or, in some cases, a simple drink of water. And the families. Loved ones who stood nearby, staring in silent shock or wailing in grief.
He was thankful for the other two doctors who had been brought in from nearby communities and now worked with studied efficiency, their faces lined with concentration and, at times, frustration. A number of women worked alongside them, makeshift nurses who before today had never been exposed to even minimal wounds, much less the brutal, often sickening injuries of today’s disaster.
“We’ve lost a number of good men this day,” he murmured, more to himself.
Addie Rose’s touch on his sleeve was tenuous, her tone of voice gentle when she replied. “But we would have lost even more if it hadn’t been for you.”
He looked at her. “It’s never enough.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
Daniel took a long breath and looked away. “In a situation like this, you learn just how inadequate you really are. You can never do enough.”