Music is everywhere. Every culture has it. It was always there. It records everything. It's a living history. Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, but those who rock remember.
There's a fire burning underground
through the vacant mine shafts
all around
Underneath the hills and below the town
there's a fire burning
underground
Lehigh Valley
In northern Appalachia
Abandoned, still standing
No one left to tip it over
There's a fire burning underground
through the fabled mine shafts
of the town
Underneath the hills and below the ground
there's a fire burning upside down
A big ol' sink hole opened up last night
swallowed a mailbox and a Dodge
down there by the traffic light
Tow truck pulled it out and said no charge
Open steam and burning at the sight
black smoke turning day into night
Abandoned, still standing
Their good ol' days are over
It's a bit ironic, isn't it...one of America's longest-lasting ska bands writing a song about one of America's longest-lasting mine fires? "Burning Underground" isn't one of the Boston band's greatest hits. In fact, it appears on a B-side and outtake album called "The One That Got Away". It really isn't even that great of a song compared to the rest of the band's repertoire, but they needed to fill up space on the record, and why not fill it up with some smoke and mirrors...or at least smoke. After all, that's what the town of Centralia, PA is filled with, and that's what the song is about. At least you're not 3:36 dumber...
In its heyday, much like any mining town, Centralia had a modest population of about 3,000 people, comprised of coal miners and their families. A tourist's visit today could nearly double the population. There are 10 people who live there...precariously. The United States Census Bureau officially recognizes the Lehigh Valley (in which Centralia is located) as the Allentown-Bethlehem-Easton Metropolitan Area. If you weren't familiar with the area before, perhaps you recognize the names Allentown and Bethlehem, which are historically famous for their mining operations and steel production.
Centralia was once part of the Lehigh Valley powerhouse. By 1962, mining operations were so successful that trash and mining waste had begun to accumulate. As there was no designated dump site, mining companies would fill old strip mines with trash. At one point there were eight illegitimate dump sites around the city, and Pennsylvania lawmakers had already learned the painful correlation between landfills and mine fires. A precautionary law passed in 1956 required that all strip mine landfills be inspected regularly as it was not uncommon for new mines to have perforated the walls of old mines.
Upon the regulatory inspection of the proposed landfill site, an inspector for the Dept. of Mines and Mineral Industries noticed holes in the wall and floor of the mine site and informed Council members that the site would have to be cleared and filled with an incombustible material before the city could officially deposit trash there. The proposed site, however, already had trash in it, and the city would have to remove it before they could meet the regulatory requirements. The meeting minutes do not disclose the proposed disposal procedure, but historians' best guesses speculate that Council had agreed to burn the trash rather than remove it (since that is exactly what they did), and that such discussion was omitted from the minutes because Pennsylvania state law prohibited dump fires...and as Centralia learned the hard way, some laws are there for good reason.
On May 27, Centralia council hired five members of the volunteer fire department and lit the match. After allowing some of the trash to burn, the flames were doused and the fire was assumed to be out. However, two days later, another burst of flames erupted from the pit. These flames, too, were doused. Given the scale of the burn, a smaller eruption could be considered normal and no big deal as perhaps the fire just hadn't been completely put out. The pit seemed under control until a week later when fires once again erupted. Again the fires were put down,and this time the fire department sent in a bulldozer to stir up the garbage, presuming that the cause was smoldering, underlying waste.
Once the pit was churned, however, workmen found a hole in the floor of the pit that intersected another mine shaft underneath. The presence of trash had concealed the hole. The fire department wetted the trash and killed the flames once again, but the fire would not stop. While there was no open flame at the moment, the fire continued to smolder out of control filling the area with foul odors and noxious fumes. Residents filed complaints with the borough, and eventually more equipment was brought in to determine the cause of the belligerent burning. Detection devices found high levels of carbon monoxide, which was indicative of a mine fire. Despite bids to dig the area and clear the fire out of the mine shafts, on August 6, lethal levels of carbon monoxide were detected, as the fire had spread to network of mines below, igniting a large vein of anthracite coal that could not be extinguished, and all Centralia area mines were permanently closed.
For the next 20 years, numerous futile attempts were made to extinguish the fire. Not only were the deadly fumes a threat to residents, but the ground beneath their houses and their feet became highly unstable as coal burned away leaving fissures and causing the collapse of surrounding rock. Sinkholes appeared overnight swallowing houses and sometimes even people. Between the constant belching of toxic gases and the unstable foundation below them, the town of Centralia, PA became unlivable, and most of the residents moved away under the Federal relocation program. Experts say there is enough coal down there for the fire to burn freely for another 250 years. All lands and properties have since been seized by the State through eminent domain, and in 1992 the town's ZIP code was officially revoked.
Bim Skala Bim isn't the only band to make something out of the nothing that is left of Centralia, PA. The 1991 movie "Nothing But Trouble" takes a stab at it in a comedy that's almost as bad as the fire itself, starring Chevy Chase, Dan Akroyd, Demi Moore, and featuring hip hop artists Digital Underground (including Tupac's theatrical debut) in a burned out, Rust Belt town called Valkenvania that collapses into a heap of underground flames. It's also the inspiration for the film adaptation of the video game "Silent Hill". Filmmakers made several trips to Centralia to draw up the set, the most iconic centerpiece, of course, being the church.
Some people say a man is made outta mud A poor man's made outta muscle and blood Muscle and blood and skin and bones A mind that's a-weak and a back that's strong
You load sixteen tons, what do you get Another day older and deeper in debt Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go I owe my soul to the company store
I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine I loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal And the straw boss said "Well, a-bless my soul"
I was born one mornin', it was drizzlin' rain Fightin' and trouble are my middle name I was raised in the canebrake by an ol' mama lion Cain't no-a high-toned woman make me walk the line
If you see me comin', better step aside A lotta men didn't, a lotta men died One fist of iron, the other of steel If the right one don't a-get you Then the left one will
"Sixteen Tons" by Merle Travis is a song for the working man in one of the world's most deadly and miserable, but necessary, occupations: coal mining.
Anyone's who's family has ever worked in the mid-20th century mining industry can attest to the difficulty of such work. It wasn't just that the hours were long. It wasn't that the working conditions were unsafe. It wasn't that the work was back breaking and thankless. Probably the single greatest complaint from the coal miners was their earnings. There isn't a coal mining or coal-mining-reminiscent song around that doesn't mention the mean wages given for such a hefty work performance. What's more, they all describe the meager lifestyle of the workers and their families. In this song, Travis sings,
"You load sixteen tons what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt..."
This line is allegedly one that Travis' father (a coalminer, himself) used to say quite frequently. Coal mining didn't pay much. In fact, it paid so little that though one went to work, his wages were barely enough to cover his expenses. let alone any new debt he incurred or old debt that he fell behind on. If you didn't work, you didn't get paid, so there was no such thing as a sick day, personal day, or vacation. This normally would seem to not be a problem; however, considering the unhealthy working conditions (mild to severe) if you were a miner, you worked through the pain no matter what.
Many hazards assailed mine workers. Sometimes even the miners' own fatigue was to blame. Since OSHA didn't exist yet to govern the operations, very few precautions were taken around equipment, machinery, or electricity. There were many equipment and equipment related accidents, not to mention that the earth, itself, had some surprises. Mine shafts and roofs collapsed. The threat of suffocation from lack of oxygen far below the surface was real as was gas poisoning from undectable noxious subterranean fumes. The gas, however, was not always silent and deadly; sometimes it made quite an explosion. It also wasn't uncommon for a person to walk into a mine perfectly fine but walk out missing a limb or paralyzed.
External dangers weren't the only hazards that threatened the lives and limbs of the workers. Besides the usual back, joint, and muscle complaints, biological disorders also arose. Skin disorders in the form of many types of dermatitis from bacteria plagued workers' bodies, including feet, because of the serious lack of ventilation. Of course, pneumoconiosis (black lung disease) was fairly common and actually lead to a reduced life expectancy for the infected miner.
If you thought low wages and long hours for back breaking work was bad, wait until you hear how low, exactly, those wages were.
St. Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go.
I owe my soul to the company store.
This line is a reference to the payment system often used by early mining companies. Workers were not paid a regular wage with a regular check or cash handout. In fact, may of them weren't even paid with anything that was even considered valuable! Owing one's soul to the company store refers to the truck system and debt bondage.
In the truck system, employees are paid in commodities rather than actual money. This severely limits their ability to choose how their wages are to be spent. A common element was for miners to be paid with what was called a "scrip", which was merely an unexchangeable credit voucher for the company store. At the company-run store is where workers and families of workers had to purchase their various necessities. This form of exploitation became a routine business practice in the 18th and 19th centuries as industrialization left many without a means to support themselves and their families. Perhaps the most disheartening aspect of the truck system was that it, by its very operation, made it impossible for workers to have any cash savings.
Many workers and their families incurred more debt to the company than their weekly truck wages could cover. Families and workers often lived in company-run dormitories or apartment buildings. Rent (and heat) was deducted from the miner's wages as if he was being paid in cash. The mining companies, themselves, were highly entrapreneurial. The cost of living was exaggerated so as to turn a profit, which left less voucher funds for the purchase of drug and sundry goods at the company store. Of course, even the prices of those consumables from the company store were highly inflated. However, since the miners didn't actually receive cash for their labor, what the voucher didn't cover could be bought on credit. The miner would owe the company more labor service to pay for his credit line. This became a viscious downward spiral. Miners were rarely paid enough to make ends meet, let alone enough to make ends meet and cover a credit line. It was a hole they could never dig themselves out of. Debtors and their families were bound to a life of servitude until the debt was paid.
In short, it took a special person to work in the filth and misery of historical mines. It was dirty. It was intense work. The days were always long and the mines were always dark. One had to possess physical resilience and muscular strength to even put up with the working conditions. Stories are even told of miners who have returned home from a day in the shaft, sat on their front porch, and fallen asleep for the night without even changing their clothes or cleaning up. Miners were a tough and salty sort. They had to be just to survive.
Luckily today, mining in modern countries has changed dramatically. There are extensive work condition rules that require compliance by law, and the overall external and biological dangers have been brought to a minimum, thanks to modern technology. While the work is still hard, labor regulations are also in place to protect workers. But perhaps most importantly, the truck system and debt bondage system have been views by modern civilizations as utterly unacceptable and is now illegal (although, sadly, it is still implemented in places).
"Sixteen Tons" - Merle Travis, 1946 (folk) This recording is the later, chart-topping version sung by 'Tennessee' Ernie Ford, 1955
~tons of information mined from lots of places around the internet
