Hancock — We may not get everything perfect in this country, but we’ve made a lot of progress since the titans of industry were sacrificing humans to the heart of the earth for profits.
I recently took a tour of the Quincy Mine here in the Keweenaw Peninsula and learned how gruesome life was for copper miners and other workers deep below ground.
The remains of the profitable operation now stands as testament to the greed of East Coast investors who received dividends for 53 years. It’s also a reminder that things are so much better for workers today.
We stood in the spot where a man died on his first day, according to Tim, the tour guide. He’s a Northern Michigan University student decked out in period mining clothes, complete with a solid fuel headlamp with fuel he makes himself.
Tim said there were 253 deaths in the mine itself during its operation. That doesn’t include those who died above the ground because of what happened underneath it.
We learned that the mines has deplorable working conditions—some natural, and some created by the mine operators.
Even with safety measures, mining is no easy task. For those unfamiliar with copper mining, you have to pound a drill bit into hard rock until you can shove dynamite inside it. Then you pick up the rocks leftover after the blast, haul them up to the surface, and start over.
All of this is happening in 100% humidity. The upper levels are cold. The walkable portion of Quincy Mine is 43 degrees, no matter the outside temperature.
At the bottom levels of the mine, over 6,000 feet straight down from the surface, the temperature would have been 97 degrees with 100% humidity.
A scenario we were asked to imagine was the experience of a miner at the bottom levels, working in the equivalent of the muggiest summer day, being shot up to the surface in January, where it’s -20 degrees.
He would have to endure the shock and wait for his clothes to dry out before going home.
At one point in its history, men would have to climb down and up out of mine, which could take an hour up and an hour back. Eventually, Quincy installed cars to hold people, but if you got injured, someone would ring a bell or flash a light to the mine hoist operator. Then the injured miner would be set on top of rack being hauled out and sent up. The overseers prayed all the way up that the message he was on top of the load was, in fact, received.
If not, he would be dumped, and seven tons of rock falling would make his injury irrelevant.
Quincy also mandated that miners started using powered drills when they were available, which kicked up rock dust and caused deafness.
As for light in the mine? Candles were provided to miners. Then it was paraffin wax and mineral oil headlamps, which were replaced by calcium carbide lamps. Tim said that though electricity was available in the later years of the mine, Quincy had no profit incentive to make the switch.
This massive operation, with the world’s largest steam-powered mine hoist, is now remembered as much for its accomplishments as its failures and fatalities.
When the profits dried up, people went elsewhere to look for work.
Common-sense laws and worker protections haven’t eradicated dangerous jobs, but they’ve made worksites safer for the common man. Companies still put employees at risk and commit wrongdoing to boost profits.
But after standing in the dark where hundreds of men died working for a company intent on making a quick buck, I’m grateful for the ways workers can hold employers accountable for their safety.
Let’s not forget the workers who died. But let’s also remember how far we’ve come since then. That’s something to celebrate every time you clock in. If you’re having a bad day at work, tour the Quincy Mine and get some perspective.
Brendan Clarey is deputy editor of Michigan Enjoyer.
