Shovelful of Sunshine by Headline Books / Zoom Into Books

“Shovelful of Sunshine is a delightful book about a coal miner's young daughter which I thoroughly enjoyed. It is a thoughtful story that is also superbly illustrated. I am proud to recommend it!”

Meggie Gwinn loves dreaming about faraway places, but one day her dreams are gone. With the help of her coal miner daddy, Meggie learns of all the Gwinn dreams that have come true and the family message that would triumph over danger and darkness. Generations of families have endured sacrifice and hardship in hopes they may leave a better world for their children and grandchildren. From letters written by coal miners, author Stacie Vaughn Hutton writes a story of hope and inspiration by showing how a young girl copes with her father’s job as a coal miner. Illustrated by renowned children’s book illustrator, Cheryl Harness, this book will be a family treasure for years to come. Using the actual words of a coal miner, Shovelful of Sunshine is a story of hope, faith, and love.

—Homer Hickam, New York Times #1 best selling author of Rocket Boys/October Sky

“In Shovelful of Sunshine, Stacie Vaughn Hutton celebrates family and particularly a young girl’s compassion for her father. She gives young readers a protagonist who is grounded in admirable values and dreams. This book will engender classroom and family discussions about the importance of family sticking together and of American communities engaged in work as it is both historical and educational. Best of all, there is a engaging story and wonderful illustrations by Cheryl Harness that add depth to the story.” —Lynn Salsi, MFA, Pultizer Prize Nominee

“Hutton beautifully captures the emotions between a coal miner and his child. Her sweet and encouraging message can be relayed to many adversities in life that we encounter and how we must remember the importance of taking risks and having hope. Children and adults will both enjoy this wonderful story that speaks to a part of our country’s history.” —Linda Bleck, illustrator of The Moon Shines Down written by Margaret Wise Brown

“Stacie Hutton, with solid knowledge and affection, has written a well-composed Valentine to our underground heroes, coal miners.”

—Thomas B. Allen, author of George Washington, Spymaster

Stacie Vaughn Hutton Illustrated Illustrated by by

Cheryl Harness Foreword Foreword by by

Landau Landau Eugene Eugene Murphy, Murphy, Jr. Jr.

Stacie Vaughn Hutton illustrated by

Cheryl Harness

This book was inspired by letters written by coal miners For my mother, Sherry, I’m so proud to be your daughter.

—S.V.H.

To V.B.J. and V.G. in memory of W.W.

Shovelful of Sunshine by Stacie Vaughn Hutton illustrated by Cheryl Harness copyright ©2013 Stacie Vaughn Hutton All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Headline Books. To order additional copies of this book, for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Books, Inc. P.O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.HeadlineKids.com www.StacieVHutton.com Tel: 800-570-5951 Email: mybook@headlinebooks.com Headline Kids is an imprint of Headline Books ISBN-13: 978-0938467-39-7 Library of Congress Control Number: 2012947085

P R I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D S TAT E S O F A M E R I C A

—C.H.

Foreword As the proud son of a former West Virginia coal miner, Stacie Vaughn Hutton’s Shovelful of Sunshine really hit home for me. This wonderful children’s book with vivid illustrations from Cheryl Harness really captures what it’s like in the coalfields...the pride of the miners in their work and their families, the fears of those families for the safety of the miners, and much like my own story, the dreams they all share of a bright future ahead. I’m so grateful to personally know so many coal miners and families of miners; they truly are the most humble, gracious and hardworking folks anywhere. Shovelful of Sunshine will give you a glimpse into the lives of these wonderful people that I’m so thankful to call my friends. Landau Eugene Murphy Jr., recording artist and Season Six winner of America’s Got Talent on NBC Television

“Hey, Meggie Gwinn! Let’s go play by Mill Creek and pretend it’s the ocean!” Callie calls to me from the schoolyard. “No,” I say. “It’ll be like the faraway places you always dream about,” she says.

“I don’t feel like it, okay?” I take off running, leaving my friend, Callie, behind in the schoolyard.

Down the path my steps slow. Callie’s right. I used to imagine exploring the faraway places I read about in my books. Now, I don’t even want to open them. I don’t want to think about faraway places, because something awful might happen.

I take the long way home, so I don’t have to pass the narrow road that leads to the coal mine. Although it is only a few miles down that road it is way, faraway down under the ground where my daddy works. The black coal is always waiting deep, deep down there, where it’s darker than the blackest night. It is waiting for my daddy to bring it up into the sunlight so it can be turned into electricity. Like Daddy says, “It’s coal that keeps the lights on.” 6

I see Daddy’s dinner pail, boots, hard hat, and an old battered shovel sitting beside the door. Miners these days use all kinds of machines to mine the coal, but Daddy keeps his grandpa’s shovel to recall the old days when work was done by hand. Me, I’m remembering the news from the other day—a television newscaster announced that miners were trapped down in the dark of a coal mine. 8

It wasn’t in Daddy’s mine. But thinking about all the bad things that could happen to Daddy makes tears sting my eyes. I pick up the raggedy old shovel and fling it as hard as I can out into the yard. 9

I run to my room, climb into bed, and burrow under the quilts. I don’t want to see my books or the new pictures of faraway places I hung on my wall. I want all of us, Daddy and Mama and me, to just be home, where it’s safe.

Next thing I know, my room is dim and golden from the sun going down behind the mountains. My nose tells me Mama’s fixing supper. I peek from under the covers to see Daddy standing in my doorway, holding the poor old shovel.

Daddy clears his throat before he speaks. “You’ve got some pretty new pictures on the wall.” “I’m going to take them down,” I mutter. Daddy comes to sit on the bed. “But they’re places you might like to go someday, like in your books. Didn’t we love looking at them together? Talking about the pretty places you dream about? I think the ocean was your favorite.” “I don’t want to dream about them anymore, not when any day something bad might happen.” Daddy is silent for a moment, looking sad and kind.

“You know, Meggie, good things have happened, too. A lot of good life has come from this old shovel. “My great-grandpa in Wales took this shovel, all his dreams for a better life, and all the money he’d saved to come to America. When he bought this scrap of land where we’re living now, that was a dream come true. He worked hard in these mines, long dark days, never seeing sunshine and for precious little pay. But all us Gwinns keep digging. We hope and believe that better days will come.”

Daddy puts his arm around me. “My grandpa dreamed that miners’ kids would learn their numbers and how to read and write. He dug the hole to start the school construction. Then your grandpa—oh, how he would want you to go after your dreams! At the end of his life, his coughing, from the coal dust in the mines, made it hard for him to say how he wanted us always to go where there’s sunshine.” “Daddy, you said miners back then never saw the sun very much, so what did he mean?” I ask.

Daddy kisses the top of my head. “Let’s find out. Now get on up out of that bed. We’ve got some digging to do before Mama calls us to supper.”

Out by the porch, Daddy tells me, “This spot should get plenty of sun.” Then he hands me the battered shovel. It is taller than I am. I put my foot on top of the blade and push it as hard as I can into the earth, as Daddy fishes seeds out of his pocket. Now Daddy frowns and cups his chin in his hand. “What’s wrong Daddy?”

Daddy gives me a long look. “I just thought of something. What if we get a drought, and the flowers dry up? Or a hard rain washes the poor little seeds away. A hungry chipmunk might come along and eat them!” He shakes his head sadly. “They don’t have much of a chance. Maybe we’d better not plant them after all.” “But, Daddy, I want to see them grow! We have to give them a chance, don’t we?” 20

Daddy’s smile was like the sun coming out. “That’s my smart, brave girl. Keep on going where there is sunshine.” I am still not sure what Daddy means, but I sprinkle the seeds into the hole I made. Daddy uses the old shovel to tuck them in under the good earth. He tamps it down snugly.

“Come in now, you two, and get washed up for supper,” Mama says, from the porch. And we do—Daddy and me. It gives me a moment to tell him how scared I was when I heard about the trapped miners. “Don’t you get scared down there?” I whisper. Daddy dries his hands and says, “If I only thought of the darkness, it might chase away good thoughts.” “But it’s okay,” says Daddy. “Being aware of the dangers reminds me to tie my boots tight and make sure my cap-lamp’s burning bright. I keep doing what I have to do, just like our flower seeds keep growing, even though things might happen.”

Every day I check my flowers and make sure they have enough water. One day, I see a weed. I try not to worry. Instead, I pull it and keep a careful watch for others. Then, one afternoon after school, I see them. Leaves! Green and tiny, just like Daddy said. Day by day, our plants grow taller and taller. And then, one morning, there are flowers—beautiful, yellow flowers, turning their big heads to the rising sun. 24

The next afternoon after school when Callie asks me if I want to go play, instead of saying no, I wipe my eyes, tie my shoes tight and say, “Yes.” Down by Mill Creek the sun is so bright. I turn my head toward it. I close my eyes and feel its warmth on my face. This is how my flowers must feel, facing the sunshine and hoping to grow. Then I look and I see the sun reflecting on the deep cool water, like a mirror. Like brightness on brightness. Like the beautiful, faraway ocean in my dreams. I bend down to pick up an old snail shell as if it’s a seashell along my ocean’s shore. “Hey, Meggie,” Callie exclaims, “Let’s dig for treasure!” “That’s a good idea, but first, come up to my house. I have a shovel we could use and dig for real.”

We pass by the school that my great-grandpa helped build toward the land we call our own. I want Callie to see the flowers and the old shovel. I want to tell her about us Gwinns. And when Daddy comes home from the mine, I’ll tell him that my dreams have come back. I’ve gone where there is sunshine and that means I have to think good thoughts and expect the best. And that is where I have to keep going so my dreams might one day come true.

Acknowledgments Norman Vilkoski, son of Ralph Vilkoski, for his support and permission to use his father’s words. Charlie Cline, retired mine safety supervisor, for his technical support. Richard Stanislaus, Curator Pennsylvania Anthracite Heritage Museum, for his technical support. Anna Brewer Craft, Kelly Brennan, and Jody McClain for suggestions regarding the traditions of coal mining families. Teachers Katie Guehl, Janie Winterhalter, Lori Palmer, and Deborah Glynn for their suggestions and input. Sheila Persall for data regarding coal mining ancestry. Don, Kay, Tanner, Madison, and Wyatt Wood for reading early drafts of the story. Emma Walton Hamilton, for editorial suggestions. David Wilhelm, whose support and encouragement changed my thinking and made this story possible.

Want to Learn More? Coal mining jobs have decreased in recent times. However, in the 1800s and early 1900s when coal was used to power steam engines for railways, it led to a boom in industry and trade. This period of time was known as the Industrial Revolution. There was such a need for miners in the United States that in the late 1880s a wave of immigrants came to America to work. Some even say the coal bosses sent representatives to Ellis Island to find the Welsh who were known to be among the most-experienced miners. For much of 1800s, mining coal was done by hand. Miners swung picks to loosen the coal and used shovels to scoop and load it. By the mid-twentieth century, machines had been invented that replaced picks and shovels. Loretta Lynn, Dame Julie Andrews, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, and Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge are among those who can trace their roots to coal mining. For more information visit the Madog Center for Welsh Studies at the University of Rio Grande, Rio Grande, OH; the Beckley Exhibition Coal Mine and Youth Museum, Beckley, WV; and the Pennsylvania Anthracite Heritage Museum, Scranton, PA.

From the Author When I decided to write about a coal mining family, I wanted to understand coal mining from the view of the miner. And although I knew the story was going to be fiction, I wanted it to be authentic. As I began researching, my main question was: How do miners cope with the darkness and the danger? Because I wanted to hear from the miners themselves, I looked at primary source documents: letters, diary entries, and birth certificates that help us understand history from the people living it. During this search, I discovered letters written by coal miners in Cherry, Illinois, Fraterville, Tennessee, and Powhatan, Ohio. Ralph Vilkoski, who worked in the Powhatan Ohio mines, wrote in a 1944 letter to his wife that he wanted her to be “brave” and that he wanted his two sons to go “where there is sunshine.” These words helped create this story. Stacie Vaughn Hutton was born in West Virginia and grew up in southeastern Ohio. She is a former teacher and currently serves as a university trustee and designs apps for mobile devices and desktop computers. She is the author of American History Detective, Jr. Social Studies Investigator, and Was it Possible? Her picture book, Shovelful of Sunshine, uses words from a coal miner’s farewell letter to his family. She lives in suburban Columbus, Ohio with her husband and children. After earning an art education degree from the University of Central Missouri, Cheryl Harness worked as a designer at Hallmark Cards in Kansas City and at Current, Inc. in Colorado Springs, CO. Since 1988, she has written and/or illustrated some forty-five books, most having to do with American history. These include Ghosts of the White House, Remember the Ladies, and her critically acclaimed picture book biographies, published by National Geographic. Cheryl is known for her detailed illustrations and entertaining, educational school visits. She lives in Independence, MO, her hometown. For more information visit www.cherylharness.com.