Carbon County: Eastern Utah's Industrialized Island edited by Philip F. Notarianni by Utah Historical Society

Carbon County Eastern Utah's Industrialized Island

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Cover photographs Front: Castle Gate by Dotty Sammons-Lohse. Back: Indian rock art in Gordon Creek by Philip F. Notarianni; Scofield cemetery and Sweets in Gordon Creek by Allan Kent Powell; the dome oven of Foto and Paul Liapis of Carbonville by Philip F. Notarianni; the Bruno barn in Helper by Terry Epperson.

Carbon County Eastern Utah's Industrialized Island Edited and with an Introduction by

Philip F. Notarianni

Utah State Historical Society 1981

FIRST EDITION Â® Copyright 1981 by the Utah State Historical Society 300 Rio Grande Salt Lake City, Utah 84101 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 81-51264 SBN 0-913738-32-8 Printed in the United States of America

Contents Introduction

Land of Three Heritages: Mormons, Immigrants, and Miners by Allan Kent Powell

Victims of Demand: The Vagaries of the Carbon County Coal Industry by Floyd A. O'Neil

Comments by Gary Tomsic

Reminiscences of a Coal Camp Doctor by J. Eldon Dorman

Immigrant and Landscape in Carbon County by Gary B. Peterson

Women in the Mining Communities of Carbon County by Helen Z. Papanikolas

Comments by Nancy Jacobus Taniguchi

103

Latter-day Saint Settlement of Eastern Utah: A Story of Faith, Courage, and Tolerance by Leonard J. Arrington

109

The Carbon County Freight Road to the Uinta Basin by Edward A. Geary

131

Helper â&#x20AC;&#x201D; the Making of a Gentile Town in Zion by Philip F. Notarianni

153

Comments by Al Veltri

171

Introduction

Carbon County, from its birth as a separate entity in 1894 to the present, has occupied a unique place in the image of Utah. Its vast, rich coal lands, mining and railroading economy, and ethnically diverse population, consisting largely of southern and eastern Europeans, produced a strong contrast to the agrarian regions of the state. Carbon also provided a contrast to the gold and silver mining boom regions where silver queens and the rich strike created a history and lore different from that of coal mining. Seeming to relish these differences, residents of the county, despite ethnic diversity, have become Carbonites, exhibiting a profound loyalty to their eastern Utah county. With heightened awareness, historians, many of whom have ties to the area, have in recent years begun to research and publish studies of Carbon County's historical development and themes important in that process. More remains to be done. Carbon's rich history and its importance to the state, especially in light of the current energy crisis, deserve extensive scrutiny. Energy and diversity, legacies of the past, continue as Carbon County assumes a significant role in the solution to a national problem. O u t of the need for more knowledge and awareness of the county's past came a lecture series held in Helper, Price, and East Carbon during early 1980 under the sponsorship of the Utah State Historical Society, the College of Eastern Utah, and the Carbon County Historical Society, funded by a grant from the Utah Endowment for the Humanities. The articles in this volume are products of that popular series. Their publication was made possible through the interest and effort of the Carbon County Historical Society and the generosity of the Carbon C o u n t y Commission which allocated funds for the printing. The publications section of the Utah State Historical Society edited and prepared the

Introduction

volume for publication, aided in part by funds from the Heritage Conservation and Recreation Service, Department of the Interior, which administers the historic preservation program. Special thanks are due to Craig Fuller who prepared grant applications, transported speakers, and coordinated the lecture series; Leonard Miller of the College of Eastern Utah who handled the local arrangements with skill and care, and Mrs. Frances Cunningham and Mrs. Pruda Trujillo who urged that the lectures be published. The editor also wishes to thank personally Miriam B. M u r p h y of t h e Society's publications staff for h e r enthusiasm and energy in this project and Floyd A. O'Neil whose insights into Carbon County history were used liberally. The essays presented here are meant to reflect the continuing effort to understand Carbon County's past and illuminate its future. They are not definitive works, but hopefully they will provide guidelines for future studies and add insights into areas where research is already underway. History is dynamic and so also must be its quest. Allan Kent Powell, a native of Castle Valley, begins the volume by discussing the three legacies of Carbon County: the M o r m o n s , t h e i m m i g r a n t s , and coal mining. As preservation research coordinator for the state of Utah, he sees primary significance in the physical environment and the remains of these legacies, including the Mormon village, the coal company town, and remnants that illustrate the i m m i g r a n t h e r i t a g e . T h e m a n m a d e e n v i r o n m e n t is emphasized, conveying the idea that the elements that remain provide a sense of time and place and feelings of comfort and familiarity to those who understand and relate to Carbon County's Mormons, immigrants, and mines. Floyd A. O'Neil, a former Carbonite, provides a study of the coal industry and its impact upon the county and its peoples. More than any other factor, coal has determined the history of Carbon County, a history marked by the "interconnectedness of events and the interdependence of peoples," with coal as the major force. An energy crisis had

Introduction

developed along the Wasatch Front as early as the 1850s, triggering the search for coal. With Carbon County coal came a stable market. O'Neil synthesizes the growth of the county, mentioning the value of the mines, the impact of the railroads, and the significance of the human element. He sees Carbon County as "an island in the stream of Utah's history," for unlike the rest of Utah it followed the pattern of rapidly increasing foreign population and intensive capitalistic d e v e l o p m e n t t h a t c h a r a c t e r i z e d American growth in the period from 1880 to 1925. Although positive in the main, this growth nevertheless was accompanied by vagaries of demand that affected both the area and the people of Carbon County. The third essay presents lively insights into the life of a coal mining company doctor. J. Eldon Dorman offers reminiscences of his experiences in the Gordon Creek areaâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;primarily the camps of C o n s u m e r s , Sweets, and Nationalâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;as a young physician. The personal and informal nature of this account is entirely appropriate, illustrating as it does the respect, humor, and intrigue that surrounded "Doc" or "Mr. Doc," as he was called. The company doctor indeed touched the lives of everyone in the camps as healer, mediator, and friend. Next, Gary B. Peterson presents a personal view of Carbon County through the trained eye of a geographer and photographer. These "glimpses of Carbon" offer a blend of then and now that allows the viewer to make an individual judgment on the effects of time. In addition, the photographs and accompanying narrative treat the physical features that illustrate basic themes important in Carbon County's past and future. Helen Z. Papanikolas, a native of Helper and prolific writer on immigrant themes, takes a sensitive view of women in the mining communities of Carbon County. She points out that without the pioneer and immigrant women the county would have been settled later and the fifty-year struggle to unionize the eastern Utah coal fields would have been abandoned early. With vivid perception she shows that

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Introduction

the realities of labor affected women as well as men. Specific examples of women and their lives in Carbon County illuminate o n e of t h e c o u n t y ' s s t r e n g t h s â&#x20AC;&#x201D; i t s ethnic diversity. From this discussion the role of culture becomes more clear, with women being viewed in most cases as the carriers of that culture. The essay is not merely a listing of the contributions of women, but an analysis of various aspects of life in Carbon in which women played a vital role, one shared with men and children. T u r n i n g from immigrants and mining, Leonard J. Arrington shares his detailed knowledge of the Latter-day Saint s e t t l e m e n t of e a s t e r n U t a h , pointing to t h r e e colonization movements, the first being that from Sanpete Valley into Castle Valley beginning in 1877. He sees this process in t h e light of t h o s e c e n t r a l figures w h o s e characters and concerns marked the Mormon experience in the area. For Arrington also this was a total experience of men, women, and children. In the final analysis the Latterday Saints left a legacy of faith, courage, and tolerance in eastern Utah. Although Carbon County is best known for its coal, Edward A. Geary, another native of the region, states that transportation rather than coal was the first factor in the county's development. During the settlement period the area's history was essentially the same on either side of the Carbon-Emery line. However, the coming of the railroad was a key element that helped to elevate Price to a dominant position as the commerical center of Castle Valley. Even before the railroad, Price had been a center for freighting to and from the Uinta Basin. In analyzing that period of Carbon County's growth, Geary suggests that the freight road through Nine Mile Canyon had the lasting effect of providing Price with a strong commercial foundation. This base, then, enabled the city to retain its dominance in the face of challenges from Scofield and Helper. The final essay looks at Helper, known as the most ethnically diverse of Carbon County's towns. Here the physical environment is stressed as well as the images

Introduction

projected by the town. The Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad gave birth to Helper. Later, its "hub" location in the middle of working coal mines, flanked by agricultural lands watered by the Price River, sustained it. Surrounded by this activity, Helper and its numerous immigrantsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;primarily from southern and eastern Europeâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;became a focal point for those of foreign birth and culture as well as for the unionization of miners and various economic activities. The town's physical environment provides a visible link between its past and present. Philip F. Notarianni

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Land of Three Heritages: Mormons, Immigrants, and Miners Allan Kent Powell

Mormons, immigrants, and coal mining summarize Carbon County's history for the past century. Although an entire book could be written from this outline, the purpose here is to identify the physical character of these three heritages, beginning with Castle Valley's Mormon heritage in both Carbon and Emery counties. Carbon County was organized in 1894 from an area that was previously part of Emery County. As far as the Mormon church was concerned, it remained one area in that Above: Painted " C " for Carbon High School on a mountainside in Price. Photograph by Philip F. Notarianni.

Allan Kent Powell

Carbon C o u n t y was part of Emery Stake until 1910. Religious ties helped keep the two counties united as stake conferences were held in the various communities of both counties and Mormon parents were encouraged to send their children to the Emery Stake Academy established in 1889. Even the town of Wellington is reportedly named for one of Emery County's leading citizens, Justus Wellington Seeley. More important than religious ties were the economic ties that continued after Carbon County and Carbon Stake were established. Emery County farmers found the coal camps a lucrative market for their produce, and the coal mines offered employment to Mormon farmers during the dormant winter months and to their sons all year when the farms were unable entirely to support a more numerous second generation of Castle Valley Mormons. Finally, the railhead at Price became an important e c o n o m i c and t r a n s p o r t a t i o n f a c t o r , m a k i n g t h a t community the shopping center for much of southeastern Utah and the contact point for Emery County residents with the Wasatch Front and Uinta Basin. A glimpse at a Mormon village such as Castle Dale and a coal c o m p a n y mining t o w n like H i a w a t h a reveals differences that both newcomers and long-time residents of Castle Valley can quickly observe. However, a closer examination of the characteristics of both communities as well as the physical remains of Carbon County's immigrant heritage reveals much about the area's history that may not be so readily apparent. A fundamental characteristic of the Mormon village is its layout according to Joseph Smith's plan of the City of Zion drafted in 1833. It provided that all the people should live in the city, not scattered on individual farms. The city was to be a mile square with ten-acre blocks cut into halfacre lots. The streets were to be 8 rods or 128 feet wide, intersect each other at right angles, and run north and south, east and west. Blocks in the middle tier were to be 50 percent wider than the others, and three of these blocks

Land of Three Heritages

were to be used for schools, churches, and public buildings. All barns and stables were to be located outside the city, an idea that proved impractical in nineteenth-century Utah. No lot was to contain more than one house, with a maximum of twenty houses to a block. All houses were to be set back 25 feet from the street. The Mormon Zion would consist of many such cities, each of which would be inhabited by several thousand people. T h e City of Zion plan was influenced by the rectangular survey method of the federal government, the New England town, and Joseph Smith's own knowledge of city layouts. Writers have suggested several reasons for the widespread use in Utah of the plat of Zion: protection against Indian attack, lonesomeness, irrigation agriculture, the instinctive need for communal association, the wisdom of Brigham Young, the need for access to the meetinghouse for religion and amusement, and the strength of the New England town tradition. 1 Lowry Nelson, an early student of Mormon villages (whose parents homesteaded on Ferron Creek in 1879), discounted all these ideas, noting that environmental factors, i.e., Indians, irrigation, etc., were not important in 1833 when the layout for the City of Zion was drafted. Instead, Nelson concludes, "the Mormon Village was a social invention of that group, motivated by a sense of urgent need to prepare a dwelling place for the Savior at his Second Coming." 2 Within ten years after the establishment of the Mormon settlements in Castle Valley, the millennialism that had characterized the Mormon church during its first half-century began to wane, and the villages of Castle Valley were some of the last communities in Utah laid out according to the plan of Zion. By the mid-1870s and early 1880s when the communities of Ferron, Castle Dale, Orangeville, H u n t i n g t o n , Price, Wellington, and other towns were laid out, the pioneers of Emery County were probably following a tradition of community planning rather than executing a conscious plan to facilitate the Savior's Second Coming.

Allan Kent Powell

T h e h e r i t a g e of t h e s e M o r m o n villages r e m a i n s in varying d e g r e e s in each of t h e c o m m u n i t i e s of Castle Valley. R i c h a r d V. F r a n c a v i g l i a n o t e s in h i s b o o k The Mormon Landscape t h o s e characteristics t h a t c o n t r i b u t e to a distinct v i s u a l i m a g e for M o r m o n s e t t l e m e n t s . M a n y of t h e s e f e a t u r e s can be found in m o s t c o m m u n i t i e s in C a s t l e Valley. 1. Rectangular or square fields intensively irrigated, used for hay pasture and separated by unpainted cedar posts and barbed wire fences. 2. Erect, spirelike lombardy poplar trees. 3. Occasionally, cattle and sheep grazing in the same pastures. 4. Hay derricks. 5. Semimountainous setting. 6. Bible and Book of Mormon names for the community. 7. The town's initial on the hill. 8. N-S-E-W orientation of the streets. 9. Business zone in the center of town. 10. A square outline, about one-half a mile to a side. 11. Streets are ragged and overgrown: "a rural feeling prevails because open pastures, barns, granaries, haystacks, etc. are right in town." 12. Roadside irrigation ditches. 13. Large blocks with four lots and a four-cornered location of houses. 14. House styles with a central-hall plan that is rare on non-Mormon farms. 15. Building materials include stone, brick, stucco, and frame. 16. Unpainted barns. 17. Inside-outside granaries. 18. Sheds whose roofs are frequently of loose or baled hay. 19. Haystacks. 20. A collection of old, used, and rusting parts from automobiles, tractors, and other equipment. 21. An outhouseâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;remnant of an earlier day. 22. Vegetable gardens. 23. Flower gardens. 24. Small orchards. 25. An LDS ward chapel. 26. Cemeteries with Mormon themes on the tombstones, and footstones on the older graves made out of the

Land of Three Heritages

same materials as headstones with the deceased's initials on them.3 Others have expanded this list of visual characteristics of the Mormon village, including Edward Geary who noted the use of small adobe bricks as an inner lining in both brick and frame construction and the parallel canal system consisting of the first ditches, which were diverted low in the creeks to water river bottom land, and the later highline canals constructed to carry water to the benchlands. He observed that in Castle Valley ". . . many of the lower ditches remain in service, so that the landscape is marked by parallel ditchlines, each with its thicket of trees and brush, creating an effect reminiscent of the ancient hedgelines of Europe." 4 For the individual who opens his eyes to Castle Valley's manmade environment, as reflected in these characteristics, a new world unfolds, a world as beautiful and

Albert Grames log cabin was moved to 200 North 500 East in Price ca. 1900. Photograph by Larry Jones.

Allan Kent Powell

inspiring as that of Castle Valley's natural wonders. The elements that remain give a sense of place and time and impart a feeling of comfort and familiarity to those at one with this environment. For the immigrants who came to Carbon County beginning in the 1890s, until the immigration restriction acts of the 1920s and the depressed state of the coal i n d u s t r y halted their arrival, Utah had no religious importance. They found the idea that Utah was Zionâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a place of gathering in preparation for Christ's Second Comingâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;strange and unbelievable. For non-Mormon immigrants Utah meant economic opportunity, and they gave little thought to the Mormon dominance until they had been here some time and found that they were considered inferior not only because they were foreigners but also because of their religion. To the hundreds of Greeks, Italians, Yugoslavs, and other immigrants who came to Carbon County, the promised land remained their native landâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a land to which most planned to return after earning the money that would ensure family prosperity and allow them to enjoy the good things of their heritage and culture. For M o r m o n s and Americans, the desire of the new immigrants to return to the old country and their reluctance to become "enthusiastic Americans" were incomprehensible. Hostility toward the immigrants surfaced especially during labor conflicts in which the immigrant coal miners were the leading element pushing for wage increases, better benefits, and union recognition. In 1903 the Deserel Evening News, in describing Italian strikers in Carbon County, concluded, "these Italians have refused to amalgamate with Americans or learn the English language and have lived with the intention of getting out of this country all they could and then returning to their native land of olives and dirt." 5 Another visitor to Carbon County in 1903 noted that while the Italians were posing as the most peaceful and inoffensive people possible, they stood with a dagger concealed ready to plunge it into someone's back. 6 Nearly

Land of Three Heritages

two decades later the same sentiment was still in evidence as the editor of the News-Advocate asked: If a farmer put up a very weak fence or let gates open knowing that his neighbor was going to turn a bunch of vicious bulls loose in an adjoining pasture, would he not be partly to blame if his crops were injured or some of his family attacked? If we let a horde of lawless men come to this country because of our weak immigration laws, do nothing to curb their vicious natures by law and Americanization schools, have no means of supporting them when they prove unfit to remain in a civilized country and otherwise let them do as their vicious and lawless temperaments dictate, are we not somewhat to blame for the damage they do?7 Subconsciously t h e old-time M o r m o n r e s i d e n t s reacted against the new foreign element because their presence served to dispel more quickly the nineteenthcentury Mormon millennialist vision. How could Utah be the land of Zion if it were overrun with these suspicious and untrustworthy foreigners who were unresponsive to Joseph Smith's message of a restored church? Would Christ really come to Castle Valley to incorporate it into his kingdom if the majority of its population was the foreign-born Gentile? Because Carbon County's immigrants were, for the most part, coal miners and railroad workers, they found little opportunity to establish a distinctive landscape to c o m p e t e w i t h t h e d o m i n a n t M o r m o n village and agricultural landscape and to reflect the values and styles of the i m m i g r a n t ' s native land. A l t h o u g h a distinctive European or immigrant landscape that could be analyzed as carefully as the Mormon landscape did not develop in C a r b o n C o u n t y , significant physical r e m a i n s of the immigrant heritage can be observed, and care must be taken to ensure that these fragile elements of the past are preserved. The most visual symbols of the immigrant presence in Carbon County are the Hellenic Orthodox Church of the Assumption in Price, Notre Dame de Lourdes Catholic

Allan Kent Powell

Church in Price, and Saint Anthony's Catholic Church in Helper. These churches served as an important tie to the Old World and as a f o u n d a t i o n for t h e i m m i g r a n t communities in Carbon County. Regarding the Hellenic Orthodox Church of the Assumption, consecrated August 15, 1916, Helen Papanikolas has written: The design for the new church was of traditional Byzantine architectural style in which the dome rests on a square supported by four pillars; the nave (interior) is in the form of a cross. The sanctuary was ornamented with icons and lamps that burned oil blessed at the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. There were no pews at first, following the Greek custom that decreed it disrespectful to sit during the three hour service . . . The church gave the men new security and they began in greater numbers to send for wives . . . . With increasing marriages, with the formation of homes and families, and with the security and solace that their church provided, the Greek immigrant slowly, but unknowingly to himself, began to be Americanized.8 Other symbols of the immigrants' decision to remain in the United States and make Carbon County their home are t h e buildings c o n s t r u c t e d by Italian and Greek businessmen in Helper and Price. Bearing such names as flaim, and Mahleres and Siampenos, these structures followed the American practice of naming buildings for their owners, such as the Kearns, Mclntyre, and Keith buildings in Salt Lake City. But the Carbon County names were decidedly different from those of other communities, and these buildings, some of which are included in the Helper Main Street Historical District listing in the National Register of Historical Places, should be preserved and allowed to tell the story of the poor immigrants who, because of their own abilities and the opportunites in America, were able to attain a wealth impossible in the old country. The excellent stonework found throughout the county remains one of the significant contributions to the local

Land of Three Heritages

mm fail at Hiawatha built by stonemason Felice Gigliolii. Photograph by Philip F. Notarianni.

landscape by the immigrants. Much of this work was done by Italian stonemasons from the Tyrol section of northern Italy. Camillo Mannina's stone farmhouse in Spring Glen represents a rare remnant of European folk housing found in Italian villages. Many of these masons had worked throughout Europe before leaving for North America. One immigrant stonemason, Felice Gigliotti, left his homeland for both political and economic reasons. Coming to Utah, he undertook several projects for the coal companies, including construction of the rock jail in Hiawatha. According to family tradition, after Felice Gigliotti completed the jail and was paid by the United States Fuel Company he entered the saloon in Hiawatha and offered to buy drinks for everyone. Two "Americans" announced that they would not drink with a "God-damn Italian." The highly insulted Gigliotti started a fight with the two, and as a result he is credited not only with building the Hiawatha jail but also as being its first occupant. 9

Allan Kent Powell

The Gigliotti family later moved to Martin where Felice continued his political work for the Socialist party and constructed the Gigliotti Block which, though vacant and deteriorating, is perhaps the best example of Italian stonework left in Carbon County. This building is probably the most important physical remnant of the Italian immigrant heritage in the state. Additional research needs to be done to identify other immigrant stonemasons in Carbon County and to document the remaining buildings and structures constructed by them. A n o t h e r i m p o r t a n t i m m i g r a n t g r o u p in Carbon County, the Finns, lived almost exclusively in the Pleasant Valley area. With the exception of a group of Chinese coal miners, who were sent down the canyon from Mud Creek in a free-wheeling boxcar during the anti-Chinese period of the 1880s, the Finns were the first non-Mormon immigrant group to enter the Carbon County coal mines. Coming to this area from the Wyoming coal mines, the Finns by 1903

Public sauna at Scofield used by Finnish immigrants. Photographed by Philip F. Notarianni.

Land of Three Heritages

accounted for more than one-third of the miners at Clear Creek and Winter Quarters. Of the 200 identified dead in the May 1, 1900, Winter Quarters mine explosion, 63 were Finns. Their headstones in the Scofield cemetery still stand as a monument to them and as a symbol of one of the most tragic disasters in America's industrial history. 10 The Finns constructed recreational buildings, known as Finn halls, in Clear Creek and Winter Q u a r t e r s . Unfortunately, these buildings no longer remain. A glimpse of the Finnish heritage may be found in the company houses built in 1899 at Clear Creek. According to Craig Fuller, a student of the Finns in Utah, these two-story saltboxes resemble houses in Finland. However, a direct tie has not been established as yet. 11 The Finnish heritage does remain in the ruins of the old Finnish sauna in Scofield which served as a public bathhouse for the community. Private saunas built by the Finns are also found in Scofield. T h e S l o v e n i a n s a r e best r e m e m b e r e d by t h e i r Slovenian national home in Spring Glen. Constructed for Martin Millerich by striking miners during the 1922 coal miners strike, the building was used as a pool hall and as an unofficial center for the South Slavs living in Spring Glen. During the labor unrest of 1933 the building served for a time as headquarters for the National Miners Unionâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a radical offshoot of the United Mine Workers of Americaâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; that challenged the parent union for control of the Carbon County coal fields and that found its strongest support among the South Slavs. 12 The building has been listed in the N a t i o n a l R e g i s t e r of Historic Places because of its importance as part of the physical heritage of the South Slav immigrants in the county and in the labor conflict of 1933. Also of significance is the Anton Skriner barn in Spring Glen. Built in 1924, this barn with its distinctive latticework recalls those of southeastern Europe. Outdoor domed ovens provide yet another glimpse of Old World tradition. The Verdi, Bruno, and Liapis ovens remain as reminders of days when fragrant odors of homebaked bread filled the air.

Allan Kent Powell

Finally, the immigrant heritage is reflected in many of the gravestones of those buried in the county's cemeteries. Both the names and the symbols on these are decidedly different from those of their Mormon neighbors. In recalling the beautiful villages and countrysides of Europe, one can easily see why the Italian, Greek, and other immigrants planned to return to their homelands. The village of Pedivigliano, near the city of Cosenza, Calabria, was the home of Filippo Notarianni, an Italian shoemaker who left Italy in 1920 and came to Utah. He was following in the footsteps of his father who had come from the same village to Sunnyside about 1900 and worked in the coal mines for several years before returning to Italy. 13 Filippo, however, became a U.S. citizen, returning to Italy only long enough to marry a woman from his village. For most immigrants the coal camps represented a radical change from the villages they left in the Old World. Absent were the familiar churches; markets; narrow streets with houses crowded together in a way that promoted interaction and village loyalty; and fields, pastures, and orchards outside of town. The distances between coal camps increased their sense of isolation, as did the strange new language they heard. But perhaps the most difficult adjustment for the immigrants to make resulted from the stark contrast they saw between the sunny and pleasant agrarian villages they had left and the cold and dirty industrial camps they found in Carbon County. One Greek immigrant described his mother's first impression of Sunnyside: . .. we got on the train the next day, and started to go to Sunnyside; and the train, there used to be a lot of coke ovens in Sunnyside. Smoke. You could not see the town or the mountain for the smoke because it used to produce a lot of coke. The train stopped right in the middle . . of the coke ovens. The train filled up with smoke, we couldn't see anything. And my mother started to cry and the women started to cry and say, "Is this America? Is this where I am going to live?"14

Land of Three Heritages

Many of these houses remain at Clear Creek. George Edward Anderson photograph in USHS collections.

Sunnyside, established in 1900, was the fourth major coal camp in Carbon County, following Winter Quarters, Castle Gate, and Clear Creek. The four camps were all constructed by the Pleasant Valley Coal Company or the Utah Fuel Company, both subsidiaries of the Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad. By 1908 the railroad's monopoly of coal lands in Carbon County was broken and other camps were opened; K e n i l w o r t h , 1908; H i a w a t h a , 1910; S t o r r s , 1912; Standardville, 1913; Rains, 1916; Wattis, 1916; Consumers, about 1920; Columbia, 1922; and Dragerton during World War II. All of these communities were coal mining camps. The land on which they were built belonged to the coal company, and most of the houses, including boardinghouses, were built and owned by the coal company. There was no private ownership of land, although individuals might be permitted to construct businesses or residences on company-owned land. Owners of such buildings may have

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had to pay rent for the land and were required to conform to coal company policies or face eviction. O t h e r characteristics of a company town include company domination of all economic activities either through company-operated stores and businesses or private enterprises that operated by permission of the coal company and the absence of an elected town government, with the company assuming responsibility for utilities, health, sanitation, police, fire protection, and the other usual functions of government. The dwellings were usually identical, with a few larger houses reserved for officials and t h e mine s u p e r i n t e n d e n t . T h e s e c o m m u n i t i e s were generally laid out with special attention paid to the topography. Townsites were close to the mine, and each town had a center where the mine office, store, and amusement hall were located. 15 The quality of coal camps differed greatly, ranging from Hiawatha, which was considered a model company town, to Consumers, whose appearance in photographs taken during the winter of 1936 contrasts sharply with the well-ordered layout of Hiawatha. An account of Hiawatha in t h e 1925-26 r e p o r t of the Utah S t a t e Industrial Commission sounds almost like a description of a Utopian village: . . . At Hiawatha, modern cottages are furnished for the miners, electric-lighted and supplied with water from mountain springs. Homes of mine officials are steam-heated. An up-to-date store and butcher shop with refrigerating plant makes house-to-house deliveries. Many of the miners own automobiles and are provided with beautiful fireproof garages. The public school building is comparable to any in the large cities of Utah, and an attractive dormitory has been built to invite desirable teachers to the school. Several miles of concrete sidewalk have been laid and the streets are well lighted with powerful electric lights. Accommodations for a barber shop, tailoring establishment and a laundry have been made, and recently one of the most modern dairy farms in Utah was established to supply milk for the miners'children.

Land of Three Heritages

A registered herd of some forty Holstein cows was purchased and housed in dairy farms that are equipped with milking machines and everything that goes to assure clean, nourishing milk, butter and ice cream. A large amusement hall has been erected at Hiawatha . to provide amusement and recreation for the miners and their families. It has been turned over to the men to operate for the benefit of the community. All of the profits of operation are used for social purposes. Bowling alleys, pool and billiard tables, card tables, lodge rooms, a dance floor, reading rooms and rooms where the women of the community may entertain and hold their parties, are all included. The most recent venture the United States Fuel Company has made at Hiawatha for the welfare of the community is the erection of two churches for religious worship.16 Coal company towns developed for several reasons, including the transience of many miners and the economic u n c e r t a i n t i e s associated w i t h mining. M o s t m i n e r s , especially those from foreign countries, had little money and could not afford to build homes. The coal companies offered them not only a job but credit at the company store and a place to live. Coal companies were also anxious to provide for future development, even within the town if necessary, and were therefore reluctant to sell property to individual owners. In addition, company towns served as an effective deterrent to the organizing efforts of labor unions. The company's economic hold on the miners remained a constant thorn in the side of the union. At Hiawatha, Frank Bonacci, long-time organizer for the United Mine Workers of America, and later a representative in the Utah State Legislature, was discharged in 1918 by the United States Fuel Company and with his wife and six children was ordered out of a company house. Joining Bonacci were thirty o t h e r men, many of whom had families, also dismissed because of their union affiliation.17 T h r o u g h d i s c r i m i n a t o r y p r a c t i c e s in a s s i g n i n g company houses, the coal companies were able to foster

Allan Kent Powell

divisiveness a m o n g t h e v a r i o u s i m m i g r a n t a n d n a t i v e - b o r n m i n e r s b y restricting i m m i g r a n t s t o certain sections of t o w n . In Castle G a t e i m m i g r a n t s w e r e n o t allowed c o m p a n y h o u s e s in t h e m a i n p a r t of t o w n b u t w e r e assigned h o u s e s in Willow C r e e k . " T h e a c c o m m o d a t i o n of i m m i g r a n t s t o n a t i v e - b o r n U t a h n s , as s u g g e s t e d e a r l i e r , t o o k s e v e r a l d e c a d e s to complete. In 1976 a f o r m e r coal m i n e r from S a n p e t e C o u n t y r e p o r t e d t h a t o n e of t h e r e a s o n s h e m o v e d back t o M o u n t Pleasant w a s because of t h e different nationalities found in t h e coal c a m p s . Two of my kids were old enough to start school and I wanted to get away from all that nationality. They had everything, Italians, Greeks, Japs and Chinamen over in that county. They are good people and I have got nothing against them. But I thought I would rather educate my people around their own nationality than I would all different nationalities. 19 A f o r m e r r e s i d e n t of S u n n y s i d e r e p o r t e d h e r difficulty in a c c o m m o d a t i n g t o the i m m i g r a n t miners: I was raised with a whole-hearted contempt for Greeks, Italians, and other southern Europeans who lived there. At one time, about 1915, when Sunnyside was booming in its greatest, a few of these southern European immigrants lived in New Town next door to us. They hollowed out one side of the foundation of their house and installed several hogs. The smell was awful. Complaining neighbors were responsible for them being ordered to get rid of them. They butchered them on the kitchen floor, and when the lady of the house decided to clean the entrails to stuff them with sausage, she tied one end of them securely to the faucet of the only water hydrant in the neighborhood and turned on the water. The odors from this and the entire family nearly drove the Americans out of the neighborhood. . . When Standardville was built, the Standard Coal Company built a very modern town. Every house had its bathroom. Within two years they had to remove

Land of Three Heritages

most of the bathtubs from houses, and from all the houses they rented to these immigrants. They clogged up the plumbing by using the bath tubs to scald their hogs at butchering time. 20 C o m p a n y t o w n s w e r e built to a t t r a c t and h o u s e w o r k e r s a n d to r u n on careful economic a n d business calculations. T h e c o m p a n i e s held t h e w o r k e r s t h r o u g h a c o m b i n a t i o n of b e n e v o l e n c e a n d coercion. T h e benevolence came in t h e low-cost h o u s i n g provided; t h e s y m p a t h e t i c and respected c o m p a n y d o c t o r s ; t h e w a g e s , w h i c h w h e n given t h e d a n g e r o u s w o r k i n g conditions w e r e still h i g h compared w i t h o t h e r economic o p p o r t u n i t i e s for y o u n g m e n in U t a h ; t h e a m u s e m e n t halls a n d b a s e b a l l t e a m s t h a t offered welcome e v e n i n g and w e e k e n d diversions; and a welfare association t h a t provided an excellent vehicle for organizing t h e v a r i o u s social a c t i v i t i e s , c e n t e r e d p r i m a r i l y in t h e a m u s e m e n t hall, a n d t h a t served to weld a closer and happier bond b e t w e e n all e l e m e n t s of t h e c o m p a n y t o w n . T h e a m u s e m e n t hall m a r k e d a significant c h a n g e in coal c o m p a n y policy t o w a r d t h e m i n e r s . In his dedicatory r e m a r k s at t h e o p e n i n g of t h e Castle G a t e a m u s e m e n t hall in F e b r u a r y 1918 Rev. P A. Simkins n o t e d this change: It is an honor to be privileged to rise and dedicate to the workers of this community this very beautiful palace of amusement. The world built . . palaces . . . yesterday for kings and queens. Today and tomorrow they are and shall be built for the people. This is the most beautiful and complete welfare house of the many it has been my privilege to see in the great West. It is a joy to know that it is yoursâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the workersâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;provided by the Utah Fuel Company for its workers in that spirit which is just bringing in a new era for the worker and his employer. The old days of carelessness are gone forever. A new spirit is rising, with a new forbearance on the part of both, which will work well in the trying days that will come with the adjustments following the war. What is needed is mutual trust and confidence and in such a place as this. We are surely to see officials and men finding in social chat and amusement that spirit.

Allan Kent Powell

Cooperation must be the keynote of life in the field of labor.21 Some students of American labor history have seen in the company towns a paternalism that robbed many w o r k e r s of t h e i r i n i t i a t i v e , dulled t h e i r s e n s e of responsibility, and increased the miners' dependence on the coal company to a detrimental extent. Companies did seem to control all aspects of life in their towns. In Hiawatha the coal company built religious buildings, including one that was given to the LDS church. Although the coal companies did not control ministers in Utah to the extent that they did in some Colorado camps, most Mormon officials sided with the coal companies during labor disputes. Coal companies also actively sought to influence local elections. However, the greatest source of complaints was the requirement that miners trade at c o m p a n y s t o r e s . T h r o u g h the company s t o r e s , coal companies were able to exert economic domination of the miners and to keep most in a subservient position by extending credit for goods at inflated prices, especially during slack periods when miners worked only a few days a week. Since no records are available to allow a careful analysis of the company store and miner debts, it is difficult to assess its influence in Carbon County. However, if the example from Winter Quarters in 1900 is representative of coal miner debts to the company, its influence was considerable. Following the Winter Quarters explosion of May 1,1900, the Pleasant Valley Coal Company in a gesture of good will and compassion cancelled $8,000 in debts that the dead miners had accumulated at the company store during the month of April. Considering that a number of the 200 killed in the disaster were young boys and single men, the individual debt was approximately $50.00. With miners earning about $3.00 a day in 1900, the average miner owed the company seventeen days of work just to pay off his debt. Usually the coal companies were not generous in

Land of Three Heritages

assisting m e n injured or killed in t h e mines or t h e i r families. T h e s t r u g g l e for disability c o m p e n s a t i o n , a battle f o u g h t c h i e f l y in t h e c o u r t s , r e m a i n s u n t o l d , a l t h o u g h t h e obligation for i n d u s t r y to provide such c o m p e n s a t i o n is a relatively n e w concept. For a family to face n o t only t h e loss of a h u s b a n d and f a t h e r in t h e m i n e s b u t also t h e economic insecurity it w o u l d b r i n g s u g g e s t s w h y t h e m o s t feared s o u n d in t h e m i n i n g c a m p w a s t h e u n e x p e c t e d whistle t h a t usually signaled a n accident. T h e u n s y m p a t h e t i c a t t i t u d e of m a n y coal c o m p a n y officials t o w a r d disabled w o r k e r s and m i n e r s w h o w e r e u n a b l e to pay t h e i r r e n t d u r i n g t h e dark days of t h e d e p r e s s i o n is reflected in t h e following accounts: The Company used to find work for some of the men who were permanently disabled in the mines. But most often . . . all expenses fell on him and his family. The company was through with a man who could not do a good day's work no matter how he came by his injuries. It was a common occurrence for the company to drive a man's family out of the company-owned home in which they had been living when the head of the house could no longer pay the rent due to injuries received in the mine. The workmen used to take up collections from one another and present the money to the stricken family. . . . There was an old man who had been blinded in his right eye in a mine accident who had been given the .. job of hauling the town rubbish. He drove different horses hitched to a funny two-wheeled cart the Company provided for the purpose. I understand that when he lost his eye he brought suit against the Company for damages. When the case was settled, the court decreed that he could have this job at a salary as long as he lived. A number of times the man was fired because he was rather feeble as the result of the accident that blinded him. Each time he took the case back to court and was reinstated with back pay. Various Company superintendents undertook to treat him so badly that he would quit which would relieve the Company from further responsibility. He stuck to it and people often wondered how he could stand the treatment. The horses they gave him to work on the rubbish cart were . . too antiquated to be worked

Allan Kent Powell

anywhere else. As a joke one of the officials put a horse, that was also blinded in the right eye, at his disposal.... He was crossing the railroad toward the east and the train was coming from the south. Both the horse and man were blind on the right side and neither of them saw the train approaching. Both were killed.22 The second example comes from a letter written to Gov. Henry H. Blood in 1933 wherein Hugh McMillian describes t h e inflexibility of t h e United S t a t e s Fuel Company regarding housing in Heiner. There is about 15 empty houses here that are just being torn to pieces and I have been renting here for the past year and being unable to get work I have not been able to pay the rent so they sent me a letter which I am mailing to you so you can see for yourself what they are doing. I have 9 children and my baby is sick and they said if I wasn't out in 3 days they would have to come and throw us out in the street. I have taken good care of the house ever since I moved into it but they said they would rather have them sitting empty than to have people living in them who could not pay their rent. There are four or five families here who received the same kind of letters yesterday. I have worked in the coal mines here for the past 25 years and it doesn't seem fair to me. . . . I don't want anything for nothing and am perfectly willing to work to pay my rent and support my family but it is impossible to get work of any kind around here. 23 Life in Carbon County has changed greatly since the Mormons, coal companies, and immigrants first stamped their marks on the landscape. The latest economic boom has had a severe impact on the landscape elements prevalent two decades ago. Some buildings remain, as identified earlier, that are an important part of our cultural heritage. Many have been lost. Sometimes a building that is no longer functional is torn down or vandalized and stripped of its rock for a patio or wood for rustic paneling in someone's basement. But ruins are also a part of the landscape and should remain to stir the imagination and serve as a tie with

Land of Three Heritages

the past. Not all landscape elements, company houses, rock s t o r e s , poplar t r e e s , b a r n s , and o u t b u i l d i n g s can be preserved. However, communities need to be conscious of the physical environment and how it illuminates the past and the future. Carbon County's history, comprised of the Mormon, immigrant, mining, railroad, ranching, and agricultural elements, is rich, exciting, and worth knowing, understanding, and preserving, not only for us but for future generations. NOTES Dr. Powell is coordinator of historic preservation research, Utah State Historical Society. •Lowry Nelson, The Mormon Village: A Pattern and Technique of Land Settlement (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1952), pp. 26-28. Mbid., p. 28. 3 Richard V. Francaviglia, The Mormon Landscape: Existence, Creation, and Perception of a Unique Image in the American West (New York: AMS Press, 1978), pp. 3-35 ••Edward A. Geary, "Castle Valley: The World We Have Lost" in Allan Kent Powell, ed., Emery County: Reflections on Its Past and Future (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1979), p. 104. 5 Deseret Evening News, December 21, 1903. "Ibid. 7 News Advocate (Price), July 13, 1922. 8 Helen Zeese Papanikolas, "Hellenic Orthodox Church of the Assumption," National Register of Historic Places nomination form, Preservation Office, Utah State Historical Society, Salt Lake City. 'Ross Gigliotti Interview, March 18, 1976. I0 Allan Kent Powell, "Tragedy at Scofield," Utah Historical Quarterly 41 (1973). "Craig Fuller Interview, July 10, 1978. 12 Helen Zeese Papanikolas, "Unionism, Communism, and the Great Depression: The Carbon County Coal Strike of 1933," Utah Historical Quarterly 41 (1973). 13 Philip Notarianni Interview, February 14, 1980. 14 Angelo Georgeles Interview, December 10, 1976. 15 James B. Allen, The Company Town in the American West (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1966), pp. 79-93. 16 State of Utah, Report of the Industrial Commission, 1925-26 (Salt Lake City, 1926), pp. 36-37. 17 Allan Kent Powell, "A History of Labor Union Activity in the Eastern Utah Coal Fields, 1900-1934" (Ph.D. diss., University of Utah, 1976), pp. 190-92. " T o m m y and May Hilton Interview by John Bluth, May 24 and 30, 1974, Labor Oral History Project, Charles Redd Center for Western Studies, Brigham Young University, Provo. 19 H. Rex Seeley Interview by Jessie Embry, April 8, 1976, Labor Oral History Project. 20 Lucile Richins, "A Social History of Sunnyside," p. 10, MS, Utah State Historical Society Library. ^Sun (Price), March 1, 1918. "Richins, "A Social History of Sunnyside," p. 24. " H u g h McMillian to Henry H. Blood, May 23, 1933, in Gov. Henry H. Blood Correspondence, Box 7, Folder Mc, Utah State Archives, Salt Lake City.

Victims of Demand: The Vagaries of the Carbon County Coal Industry Floyd A. O'Neil

For over a century the demand for coal has been a controlling factor in the history of Carbon County. The eastern portion of Utah was the last part of the territory into which permanent settlers came. Their coming coincided almost precisely with the development of the coal industry there, a development that came in response to Utah's need for coal that could be mined, transported, and sold at reasonable cost. The territory of Utah had suffered for a long time

Above: Utah Fuel Company's no. 2 mine at Castle Gate ca. 1938. USHS collections.

Floyd A. O'Neil

under the burden of very expensive fuels. An energy crisis had developed along the Wasatch Front about 1850, as Mormon settlers rapidly exhausted the sparse timber reserve of the Wasatch Mountains for fuel and lumber. In the 1850s the Utah Territorial Legislature, desperate to find a solution to energy needs, even offered substantial cash prizes for the discovery of coal. 1 Two Utah fields were developed in the 1850s: one at Wales in Sanpete County, another at Grass Valley in Summit County. Neither bed, however, had high-quality coal, and the cost of transporting coal by wagon from Summit and Sanpete counties to the population centers proved high indeed. 2 The building of the transcontinental railroad made it possible for Wyoming coal from the Rock Springs area to compete with the coal from Grass Valley in the Wasatch Front markets. Nevertheless, the cost of fuel on the Wasatch F r o n t still r e m a i n e d high. T h r o u g h o u t the territorial period complaints about the burdensome costs of heating homes and proposals to alleviate those costs recurred in the newspapers. Readers were encouraged to plant trees to supplement fuel needs. The fast-growing lombardy poplars that line ditch banks throughout Utah remain as a legacy of the struggle for lower fuel costs. No coal from Sanpete County or from Grass Valley in Summit County ever proved to be particularly lucrative. The first major break in coal development in Utah was the opening of the Carbon County field at Winter Quarters. This huge new source of coal quickly became a stable fuel for the stoves and furnaces of the Wasatch Front. Coal from this field proved to be of excellent qualityâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;far superior to that of either Sanpete or Summit counties. In addition, it was cheaper to mine and easier to transport than the coal from W y o m i n g . T h e Calico Road, a railroad from Springville to Winter Quarters, was built to take advantage of this superior fuel supply in Pleasant Valleyâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;now the Scofield area. The d e m a n d for coal to provide domestic and commercial fuel was augmented by an industrial need.

Victims of Demand

Miners in the hard-rock mines of Utah required coal that would coke to smelt the ores that were being mined in the state. The cost of coke transported from the East was prohibitive. In 1879, for instance, coke from Connelsville, Pennsylvania, sold at Salt Lake City for $34 per ton, which in 1981 dollars would be approximately $400 per ton. 3 At

The first known attempt to mine coal and make coke in the Carbon-Emery coal fields was at Connelsville near the headwaters of Huntington Creek. U.S. Geological Survey Papers, Special Collections, Marriott Library, University of Utah.

Floyd A. O'Neil

Building the coke ovens at Sunnyside ca. 1902-3. Historical Society collections.

Carbon County

that rate, only the high-grade silver and copper ores from Park City, Alta, Bingham, Mercur, Tooele, and other Utah mines could be smelted profitably. The first attempt to produce coke locallyâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;in a field operated by the Connelsville Coal a n d C o k e C o m p a n y n e a r t h e h e a d w a t e r s of Huntington Creekâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;failed. 4 However, with the discovery and production of coke at Castle Gate, Utah, by the Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad, the expansion of the massive industry based on smelting low-grade ore began. The price of coke was cut in half within a year. 5 From 1882 to 1894 northern Emery County attracted so much capital and so many laborers and entrepreneurs (most of whom were not Mormon) that the area's Mormon r e s i d e n t s felt t h a t their c o n t r o l of t h e c o u n t y was threatened. Therefore, when the teritorial legislature created Carbon C o u n t y from the n o r t h e r n portion of Emery County, the citizens of Emery quickly acquiesced. Coal Production Fed by the growing demand for coal in domestic, commercial, and industrial markets, the coal industry

Victims of Demand

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Floyd A. O'Neil continued its rapid expansion in the twentieth century. As the graph (fig. 1) indicates, coal production grew rapidly in the early years of the twentieth century. Output fell only during the depression of 1921 and the recession of 1925; in the late 1920s production leveled off. In 1931, well after declines had begun in the eastern states, Utah production also decreased calamitously. By 1935 the coal produced in Carbon County was less than one-half of the 1921 yield. After the Roosevelt reforms the industry began to recover. Production increased until the late 1930s when the renewed depression of 1937 and the decreased demand for coal in 1938 resulted in the lowest production level in four years. As might be suspected, coal production rose to remarkable heights during World War II. In the three years from 1942 to 1945, output jumped from barely four million tons to just short of seven million tons. After the war, production fell rather rapidly until the Korean period, when it rose once again. In the late 1950s, the coal demands of Japanese markets brought an additional spurt of production. Coal production in other countries, of course, affected U.S. production. After massive coal mines were opened in eastern Australia, for example, production sagged in the U.S., reaching a new low in 1975. Since that time, the demand for energy, coupled with the oil crisis, has caused a dramatic increase in coal mining. Continued growth is anticipated for the near future. Population Change Although one might expect the demographic pattern (fig. 2) in Carbon County to have paralleled the periodic fluctuations in coal production, that, in fact, has not happened. During the 1930s, when coal production fell precipitously, the population of Carbon County actually grew slightly. The main reason for this growth appears to have been the lack of jobs elsewhere in the region. By the census of 1950 the number of Carbon County residents had soared from 18,500 in 1940 to 25,000. The depressions of

Victims of Demand

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Floyd A. O'Neil

the 1950s and 1960s, however, provide a striking contrast to the period of the Great Depression. During the later depressions Carbon County's population declined rapidly because jobs were available elsewhereâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;impressive evidence of national prosperity not indicated in the 1930s. The period from 1970 to 1978 has seen the population of Carbon County increase by 5,500 people; another dramatic increase is expected in the 1980s. Value of Mines Closely related to t h e coal p r o d u c t i o n figures presented in the accompanying graphs are the figures on assessed valuation of coal reserves, epecially during the first three decades of the county's history. (See fig. 3.) After that time the assessed valuation of coal in the county was held down rather dramatically. It tended to stabilize during the Second World Warâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a surprising development, indeed, given the rapid increase in wealth during this period. A revaluation in 1954 resulted in a substantial decline in assessed valuation the following year. During the next five years the postwar rise in assessed valuation continued. Then the valuation declined steadily, from nearly $40 million in 1960 to barely $33.5 million in 1968. The reassessments in the 1970s reflected the rapid growth and industrialization in the county. That growth, however, was actually less spectacular than the graph indicates, since the figures are not adjusted to show the national inflationary spiral. The Railroads Another reason for the growth of Carbon County's industry and wealth in the twentieth century was the destruction of the railroad monopoly held by the Denver & Rio Grande Western and its subsidiaries. As soon as the federal courts broke that monopoly in 1907, the number of miles of track in Carbon County owned by other railroad companies began to grow. Their expansion continued with

Victims of Demand

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Floyd A. O'Neil

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Victims of Demand

only temporary decreases until the late 1940s. Then the number of independent lines declined with the falling profit margins of the coal industry and the decreasing profits of the railroads. (See fig. 4.) The Human Element T u r n i n g now to the human element in Carbon County's coal mine history, one sees that the death rate in Utah's mines (fig. 5) has varied but shows virtually no relation to the levels of coal production. The spectacular number of coal mine fatalities in 1900 and 1924 reflected the disasters at Scofield and Castle Gate mines, and the 1945 figure included the toll taken by two explosions. The public's view of the coal mines has been shaped by the image evoked by Richard Llewelyn's How Green Was My Valley and the myriad unflattering articles and books written on the depressed areas of Appalachia. In an informal discussion at a recent meeting of the Coal Mine Research Association in Columbus, Ohio, the author took exception to the portrayal of Utah's coal fields in this manner, attempting to explain the differences between the image that Llewelyn presents and the history of mining in Carbon County. The pervasive resignation to their plight in life that still exists in the minds of the miners in Wales and east of the Mississippi is greatly diminished among miners in Utah. Historians of the eastern coal mines, however, found the portrait painted of Carbon County difficult to believe. But these differences can be attributed to the physical and social environment. The characteristics of these minesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;clear, crisp desert air, sandstone roofs, and the near absence of labor unions in Utah until the 1930sâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;are an anomaly in United States coal history. The history of Carbon County immigration, however, is very much a part of the familiar pattern of population movements. The great coal companies of the East paid labor agents to recruit workers in Europe or, more often, simply to go to Ellis Island. There, with the help of immigration officials, they recruited men for mine work. When the

Floyd A. O'Neil

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Victims of Demand

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Floyd A. O'Neil

greatest wave of immigration came, the Denver & Rio G r a n d e W e s t e r n and its subsidiaries, t h e Utah Fuel Company and the Pleasant Valley Coal Company, refined this r e c r u i t i n g p a t t e r n . T h e y sent a g e n t s abroad to European areas with depressed economies and to areas where skilled miners could be recruited, such as Wales. Whether they came from Finland or Slovenia, Thessaly or Calabria, Gascony or Jutland, it was the poor who found opportunity in America. Carbon County's rise in population mirrors the floodtide of immigration from Europe to America from 1890 to 1924 almost perfectly. Mormon convert arrivals to Utah had already peaked by those years, but as indicated elsewhere, 6 in an earlier paper on the coal industry, Carbon County is an island in the stream of Utah's history. Unlike the rest of Utah this county followed the pattern of rapidly increasing foreign population and intense capitalistic development that characterized America generally in the years from 1880 to 1925. It was the coal industry and the insistent demand for coal in the years from 1880 to 1925 that brought the immigrant flow to Carbon County. The demand for coal, more than any other influence, has determined the history of this county. T h e i n t e r c o n n e c t e d n e s s of e v e n t s a n d t h e interdependence of peoples are such great forces that a discussion of Carbon County history that did not suggest these relations would render a disservice. From its founding until 1915 the United States was a debtor nation; from 1915 to 1978, when the balance of payments began to alter the nature of American economics substantially, it was a creditor nation. To finance the building of coal mines in Utah, the Morgan Guaranty and Trust Company of New York, which controlled the D&RGW and its coal mines, borrowed money in Europe. One does not often think of the Morgan Guaranty and Trust Company of New York or the banks of Europe as the economic fathers of Carbon County immigrants, but not to consider their impact would be to ignore the forces of history.

Victims of Demand The demand for coal (which could be supplied from Carbon C o u n t y mines), w h e n combined with Europe's surplus of laboring people who were moving into the county, produced a fragile and dependent local economy in an isolated area of the West. In such a setting of social and economic isolation abuses often occur in relations between the coal companies and their workers. (Living conditions in Appalachia are a good example.) Since the migrant workers had come from so many different European countries, language and cultural barriers impeded their ability to organize for better living and working conditions. Several attempts on the part of labor unions to organize the miners failed, and the coal companies took advantage of the miners' inability to present a united front. When jobs were scarce, the officials who did the hiring and firing often received new cars and Christmas gifts from employees who hoped to remain on the payroll. The tales of the company stores are too well known to bear repeating here. The immigrant and native-born suffered equally from these abuses. Political Relations When historians address subjects of great controversy, they often refer to those areas as the "dark and bloody ground." The dark and bloody ground of Carbon County's relations with the state of Utah is an area scholars have long avoided, for very good reason. Earlier, reference was made to the creation of Carbon County as an outgrowth of the fears of the predominantly LDS people of Emery County that their political machinery would be overwhelmed by a population of southern Europeans whom they thought of as ill-educated, u n c u l t u r e d , and Catholic. T h e M o r m o n population in Utah looked upon Carbon County as strange and alien. However incorrect the Mormons' preconceptions were about the nature of these people, the fear that they would lose political control was a realistic one. Furthermore, few Mormon traditions died harder than the unfriendly attitude toward mining. It was not until well into the twentieth century that Utah investors such as William J.

Floyd A. O'Neil

Knight, Moroni Heiner, Charles Strevell, and the Sweet brothers brought major amounts of capital to the Carbon County mines. 7 One might infer from the comments above that the c o n n e c t i o n s b e t w e e n C a r b o n C o u n t y and t h e state government were alienated. They were not. The capitalists who built the coal industry of Carbon County kept in very close t o u c h with t h e executive b r a n c h of the Utah government. The history of the county shows that it was not beyond their power to convince governors to send troops to break strikes if such force was needed. In the legislative branch, however, Carbon County interests have often suffered. Legislators from the predominantly rural and Mormon areas that make up most of the rest of the state have tended to see Carbon County primarily as a potential source of cheap fuel. They have generally paid precious little attention to the safety, dignity, and social conditions of the isolated mining population. As a result, the residents of Carbon County have often been treated as expendable pawns. Neither political party can claim t h e c o u n t y ' s loyalty on t h e basis of past performance, though the area enjoyed a brief respite during the Great Depression when all but two Utah counties were solidly Democratic. During that era federally legislated w o r k m e n ' s c o m p e n s a t i o n p r o g r a m s improved mining safety, and a state-supported college was founded in Carbon County. But when the coal industry declined in the 1950s the depressed county received only minimal assistance, and the situation improved only slightly in the following decade. After years of neglect the residents of Carbon County have developed a reciprocal attitude. Some have even wished that the area were part of Colorado, not Utah. During an energy crisis like the present one people tend to become euphoric about Carbon County's prospects. History has shown, however, that such optimism has often been followed by despair. The worldwide shortage of fossil fuels makes the outlook for the region appear bright today, but, if Carbon County and its residents are to escape the

Victims of Demand

vagaries of the demand cycle in the future, the county must not rely on those prospects alone. As the production of strip-mined coal in the northern plains accelerates, Carbon County should study local costs of production and establish creative long-term plans to avoid the overbuilding that has accompanied similar cycles of d e m a n d . And political pressure to keep laws favorable to the county's interests is absolutely n e c e s s a r y . W i t h o u t such efforts, C a r b o n County's residents will remain the pawns of political games and the victims of demands that they cannot control. NOTES Dr. O'Neil is associate director, American West Center, University of Utah, and adjunct professor of history. 'Thomas G. Alexander, "From Dearth to Deluge: Utah's Coal Industry," Utah Historical Quarterly 31 (1963): 235. Mbid. 3 Salt Lake Tribune, January 3, 1874, and various dates in the same newspaper throughout the 1870s. ÂŤU.S.G.S. Coal Lands Survey (1905-1908) Field Notes, Reports, and Maps, MS 210, Special Collections, Marriott Library, University of Utah, Salt Lake City. 5 Robert G. Athearn, Rebel of the Rockies: A History of the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1962), p. 127. 6 "Coal Mining: The Cost of Monopoly and Technology," a paper delivered at the Carbon County Lecture Series, 1977, by Floyd A. O'Neil. 'Alexander, "From Dearth to Deluge," pp. 237-38.

D&RGW engine house at Pleasant Valley Junction. USHS collections.

Comments Gary Tomsic It is always a pleasure to listen to Dr. O'Neil. Historians like Floyd and Kent Powell, Helen Papanikolas, and Dr. Geary who have some roots in the area bring to us not only the whats and whens of history, but the hows, and more particularly, the whys. I don't perceive myself as anything more than a curbstone historian, although Dr. Dorman and I normally sit in front of the museum rather than on a curbstone when we get into history. And then, it's not so much from the standpoint of dates and names as it is eventsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;their impact on the Carbon County of today, and, more important, on the Carbon County of the future. My job is to assist communities and people in planning their futures in Carbon, Emery, Grand, and San Juan regions. In doing so I often reach back into the history that I know and try to make comparisons and perhaps draw some conclusions. I think that the points that Dr. O'Neil made can be projected into our present day and into our future without changing them a great deal. I have always appreciated Floyd's comparison of Carbon County to an island. In fact, I have borrowed itâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; sometimes without giving him credit for it. But Carbon County is an island in the mainstream of Utah history. Fortunately, Utah is rapidly catching up with us. For Carbon County reflects a much later story of social events across the nation. While Utah was struggling with an isolated t e r r i t o r i a l colonization effort, C a r b o n C o u n t y was experiencing the repressions of immigration, the labor m o v e m e n t , and all of t h e effects of n a t i o n a l and international economics. We were kind of a microcosm of America sitting right in the middle of a territory that was preoccupied with a good deal of other things. And this is somewhat true today; Carbon County is still more affected

Comments

by international and national events than we are by local and state events. This has recently been brought to our attention as the decisions of the president affect Carbon and Emery counties much more severely than they do other rural counties in the nation. His economic and energy policies directly influence our growth: policies that inflate interest rates and curtail construction shut down our energy-dependent economy much more rapidly and in many cases more severely than other areas of Utah. I am one who puts a lot of credence in the economic reasons for places to exist. One theory that I have from observing and reading is that there are a lot of communities in Utah that really have no business being there, from a p l a n n e r s ' p o i n t of view. In m o s t of r u r a l U t a h the colonization catalyst was religion. As you know, the leaders of t h e M o r m o n c h u r c h s e n t people to s e t t l e areas throughout the state. The people went there because they were told to, and it was only after they got there that they started to think about how they were going to develop the economy. That is not true in Carbon County. Emery County was one of the last areas to be settled because no one wanted to come here. It was difficult enough for the pioneers to settle in Emery County, but it was even more difficult for them to settle in Carbon County where agriculture has always been marginal. So Carbon County was one of the few areas that I know of in the state that was developed solely for an economic reasonâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;to mine coal. Mining has been paramount throughout our history. There has been no other reason for us to be here, religious or otherwise. I would like to talk very quickly about the impact of the vagaries of the economy that Floyd mentioned. What kinds of attitudes are produced by a hundred-or-so-year history of ups and downs with a few periods of stabilization? I have observed in my work that in 1972-74 when we heard that once again the area was going to grow, the people of Carbon County exhibited an attitude of high skepticism and, as

Gary Tomsic

Floyd's talk so adequately illustrated, there was good reason to feel skeptical. We had been through this before. It was perceived by many of the old-timers to be another cycle that was going to end in a bust. But along with that, and somewhat inconsistent, was a general willingness to participate. Knowing that the only leg in our economy was mining, we had to accept the good times when they came. And so no one was going to turn them away. I think those attitudes have their foundations in the early beginnings of Carbon County. Dr. O'Neil made some comments about the image problem. It still exists. Though the coal miners and coal mining in Utah may be different from the industry in the East, there still exists a perception of this region that is very similar to Dr. CNeil's description of coal mining and the people who live in coal mining regions. It still carries with it the stigma of the big dumb foreigner with a pick, shovel, and a donkey going into a coal mine rather than the highly sophisticated, technical, and well-paid occupation that it is. This affects us in many ways: It affects the recruitment here at the College of Eastern Utah. It affects the recruitment of labor forces for our power plants and coal mines. And coal mining is not a vocation that students look to when they graduate from high school in Salt Lake and sit down to assess their career alternatives. But even though the old images are with us, they are rapidly changing as Utah becomes an energy state. Where once we were the only area with coal mining as the main source of the economy, now other areasâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the Uinta Basin, Emery County, the central and southwestern parts of Utah, for exampleâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;are all undergoing changes (positive and negative) similar to those we underwent one hundred years ago. Fortunately, we have learned from our mistakes. Though growth will have impact on the community and create some hardships and burdens in providing services to growing populations, we can at least acknowledge some experience in dealing with the inevitable social and cultural change.

Comments

So the problems are still there. But there is one difference: For the the first time in a hundred years we have a long-term outlook that shows some stability. The reason for this is that, unlike the past, our coal markets are now local, not national. We are not dependent on the steel industries in Pittsburgh, or Japan, or any other area. As long as Utah Power and Light runs their power plant and it burns coal, there is going to be a need for coal. Regardless of national and international events, the bottom is not likely to fall out as it has in the past. At least for the next forty years. It is interesting to project ourselves beyond that point and understand that we have a nonrenewable resource that we depend upon as our life's blood, and that someday it is going to disappear. Then where is Carbon County going to be? I don't know. Perhaps it will cease to be. But, Dr. O'Neil, looking right down the line at the things you have told us, I would say that they have not changed radically; and we can use the points you bring out not only to look into our past but to give us some good guidance into the future of our area. Mr. Tomsic is director, Utah Division of Community Development, and a native of Helper.

Reminiscences of a Coal Camp Doctor J. EldonDorman I arrived in Consumers, Utah, on January 3, 1937. I was a native of Colorado but had gone to medical school and served my internship in California. In July 1936 I went to Spanish Fork, Utah, to work for a doctor who was ill. He had recovered, and since we did not get along very well I was pleased when, about midnight on January 2, I got a phone

Right: }. Eldon Dorman, M.D., making house calls at Sweets mine in the Gordon Creek area, 1938. Photograph courtesy of Dr. Dorman.

j . Eldon

Dorman

The day shift leaves mine of Blue Blaze Coal Company at Consumers ca. 1936. Dorothea Lange photograph in USHS collections.

call from Terry McGowan, then superintendent of the Blue Blaze Coal Company at Consumers. He offered me a job as the doctor for the coal camps of Consumers, Sweets, and National and asked that I report to work "for sure" at noon of the following day. I did not quite make it by noon. As a flat-land driver I failed to negotiate the snow-packed curve just west of old Tucker and clobbered my car when it ended up in the creek. So I entered Carbon County riding in the back of a flat-bed coal truck, clutching my medical bag and rubbing my contusions from the accident. I found patients waiting for me. I saw several sick people and handled some injuries. Before midnight I delivered a baby boy. I received the surprise of my life when the father pressed a twenty dollar bill in my hand shortly after I severed the umbilical cord. Never in my previous practice had I been paid so promptly. I had learned to settle many of my bills by barterâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a sack of spuds, a box of apples,

Coal Camp Doctor

or perhaps some eggs, butter, or chickens. That crisp new bill in my otherwise empty pocket made me think I had come to the right place, and indeed I had. I spent three of the most pleasant and enjoyable years of my life in the coal camps of Carbon County. I was called Doctor, Doc, or Mr. Doc;* most frequently, however, I was "Little Mr. Doc" since I tipped the scales in those days at less than 130 pounds. The Medical Association and the Company Doctor Consumers, Sweets, and National were the three coal mines in the Gordon Creek area located about twenty miles west and a little north of Price, Utah. In the early 1930s these three camps formed a Medical Association. This association was not dominated by the coal company as were most of the other coal camp medical associations in Carbon County. A committee made up equally of company and union personnel administered the association. T h e company representatives were the superintendents of each mine. The presidents of each union represented the miners. In 1937 this committee consisted of Terry McGowan and Charles Semken from Consumers, Lloyd Quinn and Ted Gentry from Sweets, plus H a r r y Elkins and Joe Matich from National. I attended the meetings but had no vote. I never had any problems with this group. The association charged $1.50 per month for a man with a family and $1.00 per month for a single man. Money was collected by the check-off system; it was automatically taken out of the m i n e r s ' wages by the company and deposited to the association which then paid the doctor, nurse, medical bills, office expenses, and hospital rent. All medicines were covered, as were office calls and house calls for any type of illness. Coverage did not extend to some surgical items; deliveries were $35.00 extra, tonsillectomies, $15.00, appendectomies, $125.00, and simple fractures, *"Mr." preceding the title Doc or Doctor was the way an Austrian or Italian coal miner expressed his special respect.

/. Eldon Dorman

$15.00. T r e a t m e n t for venereal diseases was also not included. All the Gordon Creek companies carried industrial insurance or were self-insured. My salary was $300.00 per m o n t h . T h e r e was a doctor's living quarters and office at Consumers. A small five-bed hospital equipped with x-ray, microscope, and other clinical laboratory facilities, besides a well-stocked drug room, were all operated by the doctor. Daily office hours were held, plus house calls to all three camps and visits to the Price hospital where the most seriously injured patients were hospitalized except in emergencies. During the winter the roads were often closed by snow. The coal camp doctor helped to contribute to the morale of the miner and his family. He often made the difference in the success or failure of a mining operation. The men wanted someone at the portals when they were hurt. This insistence was why I got my job, although I did not know it until after I arrived in Consumers. The previous doctor had left during the Christmas vacation without telling anyone his destination. He was gone for a week instead of a couple of days. While he was gone, there was a serious accident at the mine. The doctor was fired upon his return. Physical Examinations for Miners As the winter progressed, the demand for coal increased. My office was flooded with men waiting to be examined so they could go to work. The age limit was fortyfive years. Strange as it may seem, I "never" had a patient who was over forty-five years of age. They would actually hide their canes and crutches outside my office. There were no preemployment x-rays of chest or back. Anything was legal to fool the doctor. The physical examination was just a rough screening test. But welfare was not yet a way of life. All a coal miner asked for was a chance to workâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;to dig the coal to pay off his debts, feed and clothe his family, and perhaps send his son to school. He never missed a shift. Often he fought in line to get an extra shift or doubled back

Coal Camp Doctor

to work overtime without extra pay. I hold a personal respect for the old-time Austrian, Italian, Greek, or Welsh coal miner. I still recall their nicknamesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;Flat Nose Mike, Fat Mary, Tony Bolony, and Mexican Joe. Each camp had several men known as Big John. The nicknames were always appropriate. A man called Buffalo came into my office one day. His incredible size prompted me to ask him the size of his pants. "Well, Mr. Doc," he replied, "these are fifty-six, but they're getting a bit snug." One Mistake I Made I had a mine telephone in my office and in my home. If an accident happened in the mine I was notified by phone and was frequently requested to meet the more seriously injured at the portal of the mine. It was quite an uphill walk, so I started driving my car. No road existed but I could drive almost to the mine entrance. The entrance, however, stood in view of the entire town and every woman in camp recognized my car. Soon each was standing on her front or back p o r c h , w r i n g i n g h e r h a n d s on h e r a p r o n and wondering if her husband or son was hurt or killed. I only drove up there twice. The ever-present fear of death in mine accidents, explosions, or afterdamp already haunted the families enough. Medicines The practice of medicine was different in those times. No sulfa drugs or antibiotics were available. At Consumers we had a new oxygen tent. It was portable and extremely useful for treating pneumonia. There were various types of cough medicines. Syrup wild cherry was the most popular. It cost $2.00 per gallon and I used to buy it in ten-gallon lots. One day I was over helping Dr. Ira Cummings in Standardville and I mentioned the popularity of this syrup. He set me straight in a hurry. "You're stupid," he said. "Do you realize that a good portion

/. Eldon Dorman

of that syrup goes on these people's pancakes?" His statement was literally true. I watched for it and saw it happen. So, I thought I would stop this practice. I bought syrup white pine tar. This syrup had essentially the same ingredients but it tasted terrible. The patients put up a fuss when I tried to switch. Elixir cheracol was another cough medicine used for pancakes. Elixir terpin hydrate with codeine (TH&C) cost $8.00 a gallon then. It contained 40 percent alcohol, which is equal to eighty proof vodka, and almost two grains of codeine. TH&C was a popular medicine. It cured a lot of things besides a cough. The five kinds of aspirin came in different colors. The white and the green worked best for me. The pink and the orange did not seem very popular. Dr. Orson Spencer found it best to use the variegated color. Mail Order Nurse When I first went to Consumers I was unable to find a nurse to assist me. I finally phoned California and by offering $125.00 per month was able to hire a registered nurse away from her $85.00-a-month job. Over the years I continued to have nursing problems. One Catholic R.N. quit when I asked her to set up a tray for a male sterilization operation. It was simple: she said, "If you are going to do that kind of surgery, I quit." She walked out the door, literally leaving me with my patient's pants down. In those days there were various correspondence schools offering nurses training. At least one woman in camp took such a course. She was a young married woman and I used her a lot both in the hospital under the supervision of the R.N. and to help me out with home deliveries. She was pleasant, willing, and a hard worker. I was glad to have her with me when I experienced a problem home delivery. This particular patient was in her early thirties. She had one child, a boy, about eleven years old. Eight previous, more or less full-term pregnancies had ended in stillbirths. She had come to me in about her fourth month of pregnancy. I had found her Wasserman to be a 4+,

Coal Camp Doctor

had treated her with mapharsen, and had hopes of getting a live baby. But when I next saw her, there was a new problem. My nurse and I found that the baby was well on its way with the head partially exposed, but the patient's labor pains had stopped. I was afraid that the baby might start to breath and choke to death in the birth canal. So I handed my nurse a 10-cc vial of pituitrin and a 2-cc syringe and said: "give her 2 minums right away." I thought I would have a few minutes for this drug to act, so I rushed into opening the sterile O.B. bundle and getting out sterile sheets, my sterile gown, gloves, and o t h e r necessary items. Somehow I chanced to look up just as the nurse injected the medication into the patient's arm. I stood spellbound with my mouth open but unable to say a word as I saw 2 cc instead of 2 minums, or sixteen times the amount I had asked for, being injected. I did not get my gloves or gown on but caught the baby in my open arms against my chest as it shot out of the birth canal like a shot from a cannon. It was alive and apparently healthy. The baby's cord Wasserman was negative, but the people soon moved away, so I had no real follow-up. I do not think I even scolded my nurse. It was my fault for not checking whether or not she knew hypodermic dosages. I continued to use her when she was needed and appreciated her help. Measles and Mumps The acute infectious diseases were a great menace in the coal camps. If one child showed up with the measles after a weekend visit to friends or relatives in Castle Valley, the disease spread like a plague to all the children of the three camps. Otitis media, a middle ear infection, was an almost certain complication of the measles in those days. I carried a myringotomy knife in my medical bag and opened many bulging eardrums as I made house calls. The adults did not escape the childhood diseases. I vividly remember an epidemic of mumps that swept the area like wildfire and

/. Eldon Dorman

resulted in the tragic illness of two young adult males that certainly changed their life-style. Active immunization clinics were held each year for diphtheria, whooping cough, tetanus, typhoid, paratyphoid, and smallpox. In general, the response to these clinics was good. "One Night with Venus . . ." The venereal diseases also posed a problem in the coal camps. The per capita rate of VD, however, was probably as great in Salt Lake City as in the coal camps. The biggest problem, of course, was that we did not have the proper medicines to handle these diseases. Gonorrhea often had to be treated for a year or more to effect a cure. Lues, or syphilis, was more serious. It was treated by various arsenicals such as "606" or mapharsen. Injections of mercury were often used in the chronic stages, which led to the well-worn medical cliche of the 1930s: "One night with Venus and the rest of your life with Mercury." Each new case of venereal disease that showed up in the camp afforded considerable interest to the camp doctor. By simple observation and deduction he was able to trace its p r o g r e s s and to discover, often w i t h s u r p r i s e and amazement, who was doing what and to whom. Any coal camp doctor could have been a blackmail expert. For me, however, keeping the medical and social secrets of the camp was part of the fun of being a camp doctor. Pool Table Surgery I never dared to leave camp on Saturday nights. These towns really cooked on weekends. Parties, fights, brawlsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; you name it, they did it with enthusiasm. I was a new doctor in the Gordon Creek area when I received a midnight call on Saturday night to rush to the beer parlor at Sweets. This beer joint was something special. Its floor was covered with several inches of sawdust hiding

Coal Camp Doctor

the blood and gore of previous Saturday nights. I found an older man sitting in a chair against the wall with his head hanging down against his blood-covered chest. When I spoke to him he raised his head and revealed a cut on his throat from ear to ear. To my amazement I discovered that it was a superficial cut through the skin that exposed but did not damage the major blood vessels of the neck. It gaped open an inch or more. I also noted that my patient was drunk. I was disgusted since I had already patched up several bloody noses and left quite a mess back at my office. There would be a problem in transporting a drunk and bleeding patient, probably in my car, to the office to sew him up. Since there was a pool table in the saloon, I decided to work there. I took out a couple of small sterile towels and the necessary instruments and proceeded to sew him up. This, despite the helpful and sometimes critical audience, did not take too long. The thump of the juke box never died and the

The Sweets mining camp lay in this narrow canyon, 1937. collection, courtesy of Clyde Stevenson.

Dorman

) . Eldon Dorman

drinking, smoking, and revelry only paused momentarily to inspect my stitches. As I did my barroom surgery I heard most of the story. 1 was surprised and chagrined to learn that my patient was the assistant mine foreman. He loved to drink and he loved to play poker. He had been doing plenty of both. At the same time the juke box was pounding polka after polka. Many of the Austrian men were dancing with each other due to the chronic shortage of females in the Sweets beer joint. One Austrian fellow kept asking the mine foreman to dance with him and made quite a nuisance of himself. Finally, the foreman, more interested in poker and booze, cursed and told the fellow to leave him alone in no uncertain terms. The Austrian left but soon returned with an open clasp knife, stood behind the foreman's chair, and proceeded to cut his throat from left to right. I had finished my throat repair job and was patching up the hand of Osby Martin who had grasped the open blade of the assailant's knife as he wrestled it away from him, when somebody suggested: "Maybe you had better go see Sam," the knife wielder. Then I found out the rest of the story. When business was good, the right-hand end of the bar contained an open case of warm beer. The bartender, when he removed a cold beer from the cooler, could replace it with a warm beer from the top of the bar. In the excitement of the knife episode the bar patrons had proceeded to break thirteen full bottles of beer over Sam's head without knocking him out. One fellow told me that he grasped a bottle by the neck, swung it with all his might on top of Sam's head. All that happened was that the warm beer spouted and foamed clear to the ceiling. Sure enough, the floor was covered by broken glass and bottlenecks and the ceiling was flecked with foam. I found Sam at the b u n k h o u s e s q u a t t i n g in a galvanized tub of water and holding a bloody washcloth to his bleeding, macerated scalp. I asked him how he felt. He looked up and said: "I feel pretty good, but I do got a leetle bit headache!" I spent the next few hours picking glass out

Coal Camp Doctor

of his bald head. I got back to my bed in Consumers just in time to hear the celebrants next door at the boarding house greet the dawn with loud but discordant verses of "It's Only a Shanty in Old Shanty Town." Osby Martin Osby Martin was quite a character. He was a bachelor who lived in one of the rooms in the Sweets mine bunkhouse. Stories were told that he had killed a man and served time in the penitentiary at Canon City, Colorado. He was also alleged to have been an exhibition shooter for the Winchester Repeating Arms Company. Everyone in Sweets was scared of Osby and he constantly attempted to enhance his tough past and present prowess. O n occasion he would take his .30-.30 Winchester 94 rifle, stand in the main street in front of his bunkhouse, toss ordinary glass marbles in the air, and break them one by one. Many heated arguments in Sweets came to an end when Osby threatened to get his "Turty-Turty." Osby had quite a racket going. In those days horses were still used in the mine at Sweets. The main line used electric m o t o r s for h a u l a g e , b u t t h e d i s p e n s i n g and gathering of the coal cars to and from the various working entries was done by horses. Osby Martin was one of the drivers who dispensed the cars. The miners at Sweets were paid fifty-five cents per ton for loading coal, but without coal cars they could not load the coal. If Osby failed to get his proper "cut" on payday, the miners failed to get the cars they needed. Eventually the situation became tense and a union meeting was called. The problem, however, was resolved outside the meeting. The Sweets union hall was reached by a narrow footbridge five or six feet above the small drainage creek that went through the bottom of the canyon. This creek or ditch was fed by the kitchen sinks, dishpans, and slop jars of the cabins that lined its banks. It contained several inches of slimy gray dishwater with a generous sprinkling of potato peelings garnished by an

/. Eldon Dorman

occasional orange peel. Beneath the semifluid contents of this drainage ditch was what might best be described as a one-foot-deep malodorous primeval ooze that not even a trilobite could live in. The unanswered problems of the union hall came to a boil on the footbridge. A little five-foot six-inch, 135-pound miner named Elmer Brinley confronted the brawny Osby. He landed a haymaker on Osby's chin that staggered him back against the flimsy railing. When the railing gave away, Osby sailed through the air and landed flat on his back in the mess of dishwater, ooze, and slime. Then the miners sent for me. I never understood why they called me in these situations. They never called the sheriff, the mine superintendent, or the mine foreman. They called the camp doctor. Perhaps they thought my services were about to be needed and that I should be handy. When I drove into Sweets at early dusk I found an armed camp. A man standing behind the corner of his house with a six-shooter in his hand waved me up the road. The closer I approached the bunkhouse the more belligerent the situation looked with a shotgun here, a deer rifle there, and an automatic pistol or two in the hands of determined coal miners. I was flagged to a stop by a couple of the armed men who were shielded by a building. They told me that Osby was in his room. I was the logical one to go in and talk to him, they explained, since he might have been hurt in his fall from the bridge. So I pounded on his door. There was no answer, so I pounded again and said, "It's Doc." The door was unlocked and opened. Osby replaced the .30-.30 by the doorjamb. He had just finished taking a bath in a galvanized washtub. I hastened to sympathize with, and even magnify, his leg and chest injuries. I convinced him to go over to the hospital at Consumers for x-rays and other first aid treatment. We did not see a soul as we drove through and out of Sweets with the .30-.30 upright between Osby's legs. I x-rayed him and bound up his wounds. When he complained of pain, I gave him some "pain" pills well laced with sleeping pills. It was now dark outside. I let him get a

Coal Camp Doctor

little drowsy, and he forgot about his .30-.30 which I had placed out of sight. I delivered him back to his room and tucked him in. I took his gun back to him after a couple of days. I was told that this episode finished Osby's days of extortion at Sweets. No one feared Osby Martin anymore and Elmer B. was the unsung hero of the camp. Father Ruel's Request In 1937 the Catholic priest at Price was Father William A. Ruel. His assistant at that time was Father Jerome Stoffel who was just out of the seminary. These two priests came to Consumers to see a sick patient for whom I had given up all hope and thought was soon to die. When the young sixmonth-pregnant woman had become seriouslly ill with pneumonia the community was snowbound. I had her carried by stretcher to the small emergency mine hospital where I could put her in an oxygen tent. Without penicillin or other antibiotics, my only hope for this patient was oxygen. But, in spite of this treatment, she had gone steadily downhill. The roads to town were cleared, but because of the seriousness of her illness it seemed unwise to move her to the Price hospital. In reality, Price had nothing more to offer than the oxygen that she was already getting. I suppose her family sent for the priest. Quite early one cold snowy morning Fathers Ruel and Stoffel showed up at the hospital and administered the last rites to my patient. But about this time another complication came up: the patient had gone into rather active premature labor. I explained the situation to Father Ruel and his quiet, somewhat shy, young assistant. It looked as if the mother was sure to die; she might, while breathing her last, give birth to a premature infant who might live but a short time. I became busy with my other tasks of the day, but paused frequently to check my patient as the seriousness of h e r p n e u m o n i a and h e r p r e m a t u r e l a b o r p r o b l e m progressed. At dusk I answered a somewhat demanding knock in my office which adjoined the hospital. It was

/. Eldon Dorman

Father Ruel. He explained that he noted the poor condition of my patient and needed to talk with me about a matter of great importance. He indicated that he, too, was a busy man and many duties required his presence back in Price. He told me that he and his assistant had spent the entire day in the coal camps of Consumers, Sweets, and National waiting for the baby to be born in order to baptize him a Catholic. But they could wait no longer. They must leave at once. Therefore, he wanted me to perform a duty for him by baptizing the new baby into the Catholic church if he was born alive. Since I had been raised under a rigid family and educational Protestant regime, my face must have indicated some question. Father Ruel hastened to assure me that this procedure was an ethical and honorable practice. He had me memorize the magic words that would save a tiny soul from purgatory. I was further concerned when I thought I discerned a hint of skepticism in the eye of Father Stoffel as if he, as surely I did, doubted my ability to say the proper words at the proper time and in the proper sequence. Perhaps someone up above was skeptical as well. In any event, within a few hours the premature labor pains stopped, and the patient went on to a rapid recovery from her pneumonia and eventually a normal full-term delivery. Dental Practice I was routed out of my bed early one Sunday morning by a man with a toothache. He was an older Austrian fellow who was still somewhat inebriated from a Saturday night party. But now he held his lower right jaw in both hands and swung his head back and forth and up and down as he moaned and groaned. He could not stand still but paced my office floor in agony, swinging his head in rhythm with his steps. I offered him pills or even a shot of morphine for his pain, but he had brought his own painkiller and proceeded to gulp at frequent intervals from a bottle of Old Crow. He demanded in no uncertain terms that I pull the offending tooth. I explained that I was not a dentist and that he should visit a dentist in Price or Helper. He objected

Coal Camp Doctor

strongly and pointed out to me several dental forceps in my glass-enclosed instrument case that stood in a corner. He also informed me that a previous doctor had pulled a tooth for him with no problem. I argued against playing dentist while he took turns pleading and berating my ability. Finally, I reluctantly selected a formidable forcep as he pointed out the offending second molar with his forefinger. I thought his selection was questionable since several other teeth looked worse. He insisted, however, so I applied the forceps and started to pull, twist, and yank. I gradually backed the patient and chair against the wall, put my knee on his chest, and, eventually, ended up with the tusk. The patient spat out a mouthful of blood in my wastebasket, took another slug of booze, and thanked me profusely as he backed out the door. When I saw the patient on the street the next day he ignored me completely. The following day the same thing happened. I wondered if he had been too intoxicated to remember what had happened. I could no longer endure his ungratefulness, so I asked him if he did not appreciate what I had done. He let forth a tirade of blasphemy, shook his fist under my nose, and said he had gone to see Dr. Joe Dalpiaz in Helper because I had pulled the wrong tooth! Dr. Claude McDermid Recent medical school graduates often came to Carbon County to work for mine companies with the intention of staying just long enough to accumulate enough money to return to the East and open up a practice. O n e of these young doctors, Claude McDermid, arrived in Sunnyside in 1911 to assist Dr. Andrew Dowd. After the financial difficulties he had experienced during his schooling he intended to stay only long enough to buy another blue serge suit. He stayed. After a year in Sunnyside, he became the Castle Gate company doctor and won the respect of miners. Florence Reynolds recalls waiting in his office when a new manager, bent on economizing, stormed in. It was a cold day in

/. Eldon Dorman

Claude Edward McDermid, M.D., went from medical school to Sunnyside in 1911 and later practiced in Winter Quarters and Castle Gate. Photograph courtesy of Florence Reynolds.

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winter. The manager warned Dr. McDermid that he was going to turn off the electricity in the miners' company houses.

Andrew Dowd, M.D., in Sunnyside, 1915. Photograph courtesy of Florence Reynolds.

Coal Camp Doctor

"You are not," said Dr. McDermid. "I am," the manager answered. "They don't need it and don't deserve it." Whereupon Dr. McDermid rose to his full six-foot six, hit the manager with his fist, and sent him sprawling. Dr. McDermid practiced in Carbon County twentyeight years. He was the Castle Gate company doctor at the time of the tragic 1924 explosion. Dr. McDermid and his three sons were left with rheumatic hearts from a bacterial epidemic. He died soon after leaving Carbon County. I did not have the physique or the ability to be as aggressive as Dr. McDermid, but this story illustrates how many of the early doctors were willing to jeopardize their jobs with the company that hired them in defense of the coal miner and his family. Immigrant Sons Helen Papanikolas points out that " . . . insults to the miners' dignity were commonplace." But the browbeaten first-generation immigrant could attain instant status and respect if he educated his son to be a doctor. O n e reason this was true, I believe, was because the camp doctor was one of the most respected people in the community. A large number of Carbon County immigrant sons became medical doctors or dentists. Often two sons in one family e n t e r e d t h e r e s p e c t e d p r o f e s s i o n s . S e c o n d generation Italian-American Charles Ruggeri, Jr., became an ophthalmologist, while his b r o t h e r James practiced dentistry. A. R. and John Demman were another pair of Italian immigrant sons who practiced medicine. Drs. Nick and Mike Orfanakis were sons of a Greek immigrant. The Austrian Gorishek brothers, William and Frank, opened their practices in Carbon County. Today a number of second- and third-generation sons continue to contribute to the professions. Resume Two hundred miners died in the explosion at the

/. Eldon Dorman

Pleasant Valley Coal Company mine at Winter Quarters in 1900; another 172 men died at Castle Gate in 1924, not to m e n t i o n d o z e n s of smaller life-taking d i s a s t e r s and countless amputated arms and legs, shattered bones, and broken backs. Life was cheap. Workmen's Compensation did not exist. After the Winter Quarters catastrophe, families received $500.00 for the loss of each life. The amputation of an arm or leg sometimes brought $300.00 to $500.00 if the company decided to pay. It has been said that in the early days of coal mining the life of a miner approximated the value of a prize mine mule. These conditions no longer exist, but they are still part of the coal miners' heritage and must not be forgotten. Today we are living in boom times, but not too long ago Carbon County was the Appalachia of Utah, the unwanted child. But without its coal, Utah's industries and power plants would grind to an abrupt halt. Carbon County is also Utah's melting pot. At one time its immigrants outnumbered the "native" Americans. Thirty-two nationalities are recorded as having lived in Helper during the early part of this century. Due to its polyglot populationâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;refined and tempered in the melting p r o c e s s â&#x20AC;&#x201D; C a r b o n C o u n t y s u p p o r t s a b r o a d e r , more tolerant, cosmopolitan life-style that sets it apart from the rest of Utah. The Greek, the Austrian, the Italian, the Welshman, the Finlander, the Japanese, the Chicano, and the native American have all left their imprint on its rough, often cruel, yet proud heritage. I am glad and proud that I had a chance to participate in the formation of this heritage. I am glad and proud that I live and work in Carbon County. Dr. Dorman is an ophthalmologist in Price and a member of the Utah Historic and Cultural Sites Review Committee.

Immigrant and Landscape in Carbon County Gary B. Peterson Photogeographics

Castle Gate's distinctive cliffs formed a landmark on the Price River section of the Denver & Rio Grande. C.R. Savage photographed the scene with a trestle foreground. Although the railroad grade remains about the same, the extensive cut and fill of U.S. highway 6 and 50 that provide a safe and speedy automobile artery also account for the disappearance of the topographic feature Castle Gate.

Both the destiny and directorates of Utah's mines and railroads interlocked here at the Utah Fuel Company coal town of Castle Gate on the D & RG main line. The prominent two-story stone store and office building was the site of Butch Cassidy's 1897 hold-up of some $8,000 in silver and gold. By the mid-1970s the town had been razed and more efficient coal-handling facilities serviced unit trains California-bound. Another piece of the past is gone.

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Helper's old commercial core, largely rebuilt of stone and brick after early wooden false fronts burned in 1919, has been designated a National Register Historic District. The place's pulse is still marked by the yards and "helper" engines of the early railroad town. A slice of early twentieth-century Central Business District slumbers here where once hummed cafes and coffeehouses, houses of ill repute, general meres and laundries, saloons and theatres of Italian and Chinese, Greek, Slavic, Japanese, and Jewish immigrants.

Helper became a city of refuge, a privately owned neutral ground at the hub of strings of company coal camps up the adjacent canyons. Strikers, union organizers, and national guardsmen all congregated in the streets and watering spots during the periodic tense times of labormanagement disputes. Today the regional city, suburbia, and the automobile have eliminated the need for isolated coal camps. The flourishing hub function is mostly memory, and it remains to be seen with what integrity and vision this remarkable accident of history survives. 68

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The immigrant, especially from southeastern Europe, began to shape the landscape here by the turn of the century. Italians and Greeks, Austrians and Yugoslavs came in turn to Carbon in search of the American dream. Many of the second generation found it following their parents' labor and persistence in the face of varied degrees and kinds of prejudice and discrimination.

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The Gigliotti Block near Helper, writes Kent Powell, is " t h e most i m p o r t a n t physical r e m a i n of t h e Italian immigrant heritage in the state." Much of the excellent stonework rapidly fading from Carbon's material heritage was done by Italian stonemasons from the Tyrol.

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S p r i n g Glen r e m a i n e d an e n c l a v e of a g r a r i a n individualists as coal and railroad communities sprang up around the county. After two or three decades, the Mormons here were joined by Italians and Yugoslavs who developed their family farmstead complexes with touches of cultural preference from the old country.

Preferred spices and vegetables were grown, and rabbit hutches appeared with the chicken coops. Small truck farmers filled their bushel boxes and drove wagons through the coal camps selling their produce. Smokehouses, outdoor bake ovens, and viticulture spread a subtle distinctiveness over this corner of Carbon County.

The Slovenian Home was a prominent gathering place for sympathizers of the fledgling National Miners Union during the strike of 1933. It is one of the few landmarks remaining to witness the Slavic culture here. This outdoor bake oven was built and used by Italians. The warm fresh yeasty aroma of baking bread in similar ovens also hovered over Greek neighborhoods and perked the palate of any passerby.

Another classic but rare remnant of European folk tradition is the Camillo Mannina farmhouse. It appears plucked from the Alpine terrain of Mannina's native northeastern Italy. Anton "Tony" Skriner was born in a village near Ljubljana, Yugoslavia, near the Italian-Austrian border. Slovenian friends helped him build this delightful example of transferred folk tradition in 1924. The barn's lattice gable end vents, plan form and proportions, and dormer traveled an ocean and two continents to this corner of Carbon County. All that is missing are the bright geraniums perched in the dormers in southeastern Europe.

The churches became an early focal point of ethnic tradition. They remain the strongest visual symbols of a group of assimilating cultures. The Price Hellenic Orthodox Church of the Assumption displays its traditional Byzantine style in the dome resting on a square and cruciform nave. But today worshipers are seated and the memorial wheat is now neatly plastic-packaged in a m a n n e r eminently "American." St. Anthony's parish in Helper is indicative of an Italian dominance in the vicinity. In Price, Notre Dame de Lourdes Catholic Church sits firm and brilliant in the sun just down the block from a successful and influential French sheepraising family's residence. One of the surprises of the Carbon County cultural landscape is that the impact of immigrants seems now rather minimal and ephemeral. Although the Americanization process was difficult and painful for the participants, it seems to have been rather thorough.

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The company town of Hiawatha attenuates at the base of the plateau, its neat rows of white frame houses marching down to the mine office, amusement hall, and company store. The coal boom continues and company officials consider the town's fate. An amazing anachronism, it survived into the 1980s intact.

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An "up front and out back" dichotomy of immigration persists in this landscape. The "up front" part of many says, "we have found the American dream." But for some, up a back road or behind a back corner of the mind, an "out back" tradition says, "we are losing the joys of our old country ways." The up front, like some American dreams, doesn't quite ring perfectly true; while out back the old ways are blending back into the landscape. The bake oven warms only in the sun now, but hearts of those old country immigrants will warm you always in Carbon County, Utah. Mr. Peterson is a free-lance cultural geographer and photographer. Fieldwork and the numerous writings of Helen Papanikolas, Philip Notarianni, and Kent Powell were primary sources of inspiration for this essay.

Women in the Mining Communities of Carbon County Helen Z. Papanikolas

The immigrant and American-born women who began coming t o C a r b o n C o u n t y w h e n railroad companies initiated large-scale coal production knew little about their f o r e r u n n e r s , t h e p i o n e e r s . H o m e s t e a d i n g u n d e r the deprivations of colonization, plowing and planting while husbands were away on church missions or with other polygamous wives, these early women, nevertheless, tamed somewhat an arid wildness into the rustic life the laterarriving women found. 1 Above: Sarah "Killarney" Reynolds, left, and Elizabeth McDermid, leaders in helping immigrant women. Photograph courtesy of Florence Reynolds.

Helen Z. Papanikolas

Their fate interwoven with railroading and coal mining, t h e s e l a t t e r w o m e n w e r e as h a r d y and as determined as the first settlers. Their goals were far different: not the propagation of a new religion but escape from poverty. They lived with unrelenting toil and with fears of being forced out of company houses during labor wars, of dying in childbirth, of husbands and fathers being killed from a fall of coal or in explosions. Over all hovered the anxious perplexity of being unwanted aliens. Life was especially difficult for the Mediterranean, Balkan, and Japanese women among them. They were severely restricted by the culture they brought to the new country. The lowly position of Middle East, Near East, and Balkan women can be traced to their countries' falling under the great sweep of the Ottoman Turks for whom women were chattel. Although the Italians were not subjugated by the T u r k s , t h e i r extensive t r a d e w i t h t h e Moslems influenced them to further women's submission to men. 2 The Japanese history of feudalism, constant battling of warlords, and cultural patterns also placed women in a demeaning position. In contrast, the women from Britain and Scandinavia were not so culture-bound that they reserved all their energies for their families' welfare. Into the province that Balkan, Mediterranean, and Japanese women viewed as men's, the better educated British and Scandinavian women entered with zeal. On coming to Helper from Ireland in 1910, S a r a h " K i l l a r n e y " Reynolds t r a n s f o r m e d the dilapidated wooden Catholic church on a hill east of the railyards; it had no heat, water, or electricity. With pails of water carried up the steep hill, she, Vera Litizzette, and Catherine Verdi, daughters of Italian immigrants, scrubbed, painted, polished, and made the church a parish for the miners of the county. Although native cultures were not left at Castle Garden and Ellis Island, industrial unrest and the American labor movement brought about the right to protest that affected men and women alike in the coal fields. During the

Women in the Mining Communities

1903 Carbon County strike, Italian women marched down muddy streets in support of their husbands. 3 The men faced blacklisting and jailing as radicals; women were confronted with the horror of raising hungry children in an alien land. Old-country cultures would not permit wives' working outside their houses, but the county was in turmoil over unionization attempts, and the hope of a semblance of security for their families was so great that the women encouraged their men to hold fast. After all, they had come to America for a better life. The women's daring amazed the old-time inhabitants. Caterina Bottino hid the famed labor organizer Mother Jones from authorities. Mother Jones was put on trains, jumped off as they rounded Steamboat Mountain, and walked back to exhort the strikers and their women to go on. "Unionize! Unionize!" was her rallying call and the Italian women heeded. In desperation sheriffs put Mother Jones in a "pest house" under quarantine. Had Caterina Bottino and other women quailed, had they feared the immediate possibility of hunger for their children and chosen instead steady servitude to management, future strike activity would have been curtailed because immigrants were the largest force in the county. The 1903 strike was unsuccessful, and officials of the United Mine Workers fled the county. The treasurer, Joseph Barboglio, went to Nofinger, Missouri, where he opened a saloon and married Jennie Causer, an immigrant from England, before r e t u r n i n g to Utah w h e r e he entered banking. The young people were symbols of the vitality immigration brings to a host country. An Italian and his English bride from c o n t r a s t i n g c u l t u r e s w o r k e d and prospered. Their d a u g h t e r Helen recalls the constant dinners h e r m o t h e r prepared for bank examiners and officials. Once she complained of the work. "We have to, Jennie, I learn so much from them," the fledgling banker said.4 The Barboglios left a legacy of Carbon County's early days. When Ralph Thomsen asked his Helper students who

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Papanikolas

Jennie Causer Barboglio (in doorway) and her husband joe (right), who made the cement blocks for their building. Photograph courtesy of Helen Barboglio Leavitt.

Women in the Mining Communities

the three greatest men in history were, an Italian-American boy answered, "Jesus Christ, Napoleon, and Joe Barboglio." For all her wealth, Jennie Causer Barboglio remained an unassuming immigrant woman, compassionate and spirited in the Helper of twenty-eight ethnic groups. (DanishAmerican Ralph Thomsen said, "It was a shock for me, a Mormon native of Sanpete, to teach in Helper. I was used to Nordic faces. Instead of students' bringing me apples, they brought me bottles of wine.") The 1903 strike also brought a new immigrant group to Carbon County, the Greeks. Unwittingly they came as strike-breakers, a phenomenon completely u n k n o w n in Greece. The first Greek couple in Helper were the John Diamantis. It was highly unusual for Greek women to immigrate in the first years. Balkan and Mediterranean men almost always came alone with the goal of making a little money and returning to their native countries. Much of the hostility toward immigrants in the first two decades of the century stemmed from their continuing native languages and customs and sending money back to their families. Immigrants considered themselves temporary workers who had come to fill the labor needs of the mines, mills, smelters, and railroads of America. They were enticed, even brought over, by company-paid agents for cheap labor. There were not enough American workers available who w o u l d w o r k for t h e low w a g e s m a n a g e m e n t paid immigrants. No one, except the American Federation of Labor, condemned mine and railroad companies for bringing in foreign labor. The immigrants became the victims of the press and demagogues. In Utah the immigrants were more important as unskilled laborers than elsewhere; early Mormon church leaders had consistently warned their people to stay away from industry. 5 Why John Diamanti brought his young wife with him is lost in the past, but soon they became the patriarch and matriarch of the growing community known as "Greek T o w n , " west of the Helper grade school. Barba Yianni ("Uncle John"), Greek-immigrant children called John

Helen Z. Papanikolas

Diamanti. He was a man of charisma, a folk healer, an interpreter of dreams, and a foreteller of the sex of unborn children. Each Easter he examined the shoulder blade of the paschal lamb and told what the following year would bring. 6 The Greek Town children called Uncle John's wife Thitsa ("Little Aunt"). Their elders called her Yiannina, the genitive of her husband's name. She seldom smiled; the responsibilities Greek culture placed on her were enormous. No one gave her role much thought: she was merely a woman doing woman's work. The Greek bachelors were constant guests. As the matriarch she was in charge of weddings and baptisms. Each Saturday she had the Greek water boys of railroads and mines come down from their tents and shacks and line up to take their turn at having her wash their hair. No child went without shoes or food if she knew about it, and it did not matter if they were the children of immigrants or Americans. People remembered that she would set out with Uncle John's bootleg money in her purse to buy her sons clothing; it was gone by the time she reached town. On the way she saw a child with wornout overalls, another with ripped-off shoe soles. 7 When Chris Jouflas, future mayor of Helper, was orphaned, she raised him along with her eight children until his father married again. Yiannina remains a symbol of all overworked, dutybound immigrant women for whom living was continual anxiety. The immigrant inspector's and coal mine inspector's reports of those years contain page after page with stark details of deaths and maimings in the mines. From 1892, when record-keeping began, to 1929, Utah had one of the worst records in the nation. From 1914 to 1929 Utah's number of fatalities in relation to hours worked and tons mined was almost twice the national average. 8 When strikers in 1903 were blacklisted, many of the Italians began to farm on the banks of the Price River. O t h e r s who had worked on railroad gangs and were sympathetic to the strikers turned to farming and building.

Women in the Mining

Communities

Frank and Teresa Mangone, Castle Gate, November 10, 1913. Photo, labeled "Papa 1st Payday," was taken to assure the bride's parents of their daughter's well-being. Carbon County Historical Society collections.

Most immigrants came w i t h o u t a trade as unskilled laborers, but several Italians were builders and, particularly, stonemasons. Their superior craft can still be seen in rock houses and mine portals. Joe Bonacci, a former railroad foreman, built several white frame houses on the road leading to Main Street in Helper. Across the tracks he worked a small farm where he later built several houses. Before his railroad and building days, he farmed near Wellington where his third wife raised a large family in complete isolation. He was often gone days at a time to sell his produce in Price and in mining camps. His wife's reminiscences of her profound loneliness resemble those of pioneer women in the Midwest on homesteads fifty wagon miles apart who often succumbed to mental illness. Josephine Bonacci was eventually saved, not by her pleadings but by admonitions of her husband's friends that his wife and daughters could be vulnerable during his absences to passing cowboys and sheepherders. 9

Helen Z. Papanikolas

Joe Bonacci then established a boardinghouse in Price, and although his wife worked even harder, being among people was a relief and a comfort. Living on farms at a great distance from others was alien to immigrants. In their native countries farm plots were on the outskirts of villages, often miles away, but villagers returned to their houses after the day's work. In the evening men met in taverns or coffeehouses and the women visited with neighbors. Running boardinghouses was a common experience for immigrant women, besides their raising large families, washing clothes by hand, cooking, mending, ironing, baking bread in outdoor earth ovens, and tending gardens. There were thousands of young unmarried workers for whom management felt no special responsibility to provide boardinghouses and hotels. At the outset managers opened one mine after another, indifferent to where the men would eat and sleep. Men lived in tents and shacks without water and privies and slept on cots or on dirt floors. When women began coming as picture brides, each took in relatives or village friends of her husband as boarders. There were not enough women to supply room and board for all the men, but they washed their clothes and cooked for them. A woman who came from Crete in 1911 to the southern Colorado coal fields and then to Carbon County said: When the men brought me their clothes to wash on their way to work, I had them drop them by the fence, then I would lift them up with a long stick and drop them into a tub of boiling water over a fire in the yardâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;because they were crawling with lice.10 Helen Koulouris and her sister-in-law boarded forty men. She said: They came in the morning for breakfast, and while they were eating, we filled their lunch buckets. In the evening they came for the big meal. We had to get our water from the river to cook and wash. We didn't complain. We didn't know any better.11

Women in the Mining Communities

Some w o m e n didn't complain because keeping boardinghouses was a means of accumulating money to help their husbands enter business or become sheepmen. The women became matriarchs in their ethnic communities, and the young men who boarded with them were provided with the attentions that their mothers and sisters would have given t h e m on t h e i r n a m e day c e l e b r a t i o n s , Easter, Christmas, and other religious observances. Pictures were taken to send back to the old country so that families could see their sons were well dressed, could afford liqueurs to celebrate, and a lone woman was present to care for them. It was a life of slave labor. When the restrictive i m m i g r a t i o n legislation of 1921 and 1924 drastically reduced, or for Japanese completely cut off, the numbers entering the country, the women were relieved. South Slav (Yugoslavian) women worked toward the boardinghouse system's dying out. 12 For some immigrant women America was more than a salvation from poverty, it was a refuge. The customs of native countries were inflexible and could lead to tragedy. Second cousins Suga and Eiji Iwamoto came to America because their marriage in Japan was unthinkable. Classes did not intermarry and Suga's family were samurai, her husband's farmers. In Latuda, Carbon County, Eiji Iwamoto became a camp boss. His wife awoke at 4:30 each morning to light the coal stove, prepare breakfast, and fill lunch buckets for her boarders. When the men returned from their mine shift, she scrubbed their backs while they bathed in a large wooden tub in a rear bathhouse. Japanese were not allowed to use company showers in the early days. 13 America gave hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of women, the opportunity to marry. Without dowries they would have remained unmarried in their own countries. The author's mother was one of those women. She at least saw the man she was to marry before the wedding. Most immigrant women came as picture brides, and often the men who met them at the Helper and Price Denver & Rio Grande Western depots were very unlike the photographs

Helen Z. Papanikolas

they held in their hands. Often, too, the men were shocked at the brides sent them, demurred, and had to be reminded that their honor required taking the marriage vows. A Greek was chased from one sheep camp to another before he capitulated. After the restrictive immigration legislation of the early 1920s, immigrant men were forced to travel to Canada, Cuba, or Mexico to marry their picture brides. Immigrant women had no say as to the man they were to marry; the male members of their families made the decisions. Sophia Gazel's father saw John Mose Howa get off a train and decided he would become his daughter's husband. The Gazels and Howas were among the tenacious Lebanese immigrants who survived and flourished in Utah. Many Lebanese were vigorous merchants who made a circuit of the mining camps with hand-worked tablecloths, colorful bedspreads, and notions. The men found that their

Lebanese immigrants John Mose and Sophia Gazel Howa in their wedding attire. Photograph courtesy of John Howa.

Women in the Mining Communities

Slovenian immigrants Magdalena and Tony Skriner on their wedding day. Photograph courtesy of Frances Skriner Perri.

women were invited into houses easier than they, and the Lebanese women became accomplished business partners. The arrival of their well-stocked wagons and cars in ethnic neighborhoods brought excited calls: "The Aravi! The Aravi! ['Arabs'] are here!" and women rushed out of their houses. When the 1930s depression brought mines and business to near ruin, Sophia Gazel's sisters opened the Madame Queen ice cream stand in Helper and weathered the stultifying years. 14 Immigrant women were used to scrambling for survival; their existence in their native countries was, as the Yugoslavs described it, "the daily struggle for bread." The self-sufficiency of the old countries was practiced in Utah. In ethnic neighborhoods called "Greek T o w n s , " "Wop Towns," and "Bohunk Towns" by the "Americans," were washhouses, chicken coops, rabbit hutches, pigeon roosts, wood and coal sheds, and always a garden. The women reveled in the marvel of American irrigation. In contrast,

Helen Z. Papanikolas

the houses of poor Americans who lived nearby were devoid of grass, gardens, and chicken coops. One of the self-sufficient and expansively hospitable women was a young widow whose first husband had died of pneumonia following an attempt to retrieve a sheep from a flood of the Price River. Left with a small daughter, she later married a widower, Peter Jouflas, who had a young son, Chris. Not long afterwards, her second husband became ill. Together they kept washing machines and mangle irons going for the laundry of Greek hotels, butcher shops, and restaurants in Helper. Sheepherders took for granted that they could sleep on the cots kept handy in the washhouse when they came to town. Always visitors arrived; Helen Jouflas turned off the mangle irons and immediately set about cooking. When George and Emily Zeese moved to Cameron (later Rolapp, then Royal) in 1917, she walked the four miles to greet Emily, carrying a newborn son, George Jouflas. Immigrant women also brought the fear of death in childbirth with them. Maternal and infant deaths in America were almost as great as in their native countries. Although company doctors were employed as mines opened, both American-born and immigrant women were wary of having them deliver their babies. Because of custom and feelings of impropriety, the women turned to each other for help. Besides midwifery, women took on the additional burden of cooking and tending their neighbor's children when babies were born. This was especially true of immigrant families because fathers were totally ignorant of women's work. If women could not nurse their newborns, other women nursed them along with their own. American women were paid for this but not immigrant women. Their cultures gave a holy significance to giving milk to sustain a baby. The crusading of Esther Frakes, a Danish immigrant and wife of a Helper railroad engineer, brought eagerly sought medical help to the women. After many childless years, Esther Frakes had given birth to a premature infant

Women in the Mining Communities

and experienced the drastic lack of medical facilities. She brought her m o t h e r , a midwife, from Oklahoma, and together they spent their Carbon County years helping women in childbirth. 15 An important midwife in Helper was a native of Italy, Teresina DeLuca. Besides delivering babies, she used folk cures and dispelled the evil eye. Her neighbor Helen Jouflas regularly brought sickly, colicky Greek babies to have the rites of exorcism performed. Two Greek women called Grammatikina and Kisamitakina were also well known for their evil-eye ministrations. When the sons of immigrants returned to Carbon County with medical diplomas, professional services were tentatively, then widely, accepted by immigrant women. Drs. Ruggeri, Gianotti, Columbo, Demman, Dalpiaz (a dentist), Gorishek, and Orphanakis were immigrant sons. The first of these, Dr. Charles Ruggeri, kept the women in anxious fear that he would discover their using folk cures along with his prescriptions. In contrast, there were women in the mining towns and camps w h o were not touched by drudgery and anxieties, t h e wives of company d o c t o r s and mine managers. They lived lives of comfort. Managers could demand contributions from immigrants for automobiles for themselves and fur coats and diamond rings for their wives. James Galanis, who later owned the Golden Rule Store in Helper, was fired from the Kenilworth mine because he refused to donate toward a diamond ring for the manager's wife. 16 Yet, the wife of Dr. Claude McDermid is remembered as a humanitarian. She brought food and clothing to mining families in the days before unionization and before welfare. The McDermids were Irish Catholics, and this brought them into close contact with Irish railroaders, Italian and South Slav miners. The Irish railroaders knew firsthand the sufferings of mining families through their runs from the coal camps to the Helper railyards. 1 7 They had been successful, along with non-Catholic railroad men Harry

Helen Z. Papanikolas

Clark, Julius Holmes, Frank P o r t e r , and o t h e r s in establishing the Brotherhood of Railroad Workers in the early years of the century. In both the 1922 and 1933 coal strikes they refused to ship coal mined by scabs. Getting out of the coal mines was a goal for most immigrants and especially for their wives who feared the scream of mine whistles at odd times. Increasingly, after the First World War, immigrants left the mines to become businessmen. Others, notably the French, Basques, and Greeks, returned to the ancient sheep raising of their ancestors. Their wives became modern-day nomads, piling their children and supplies into cars for the summer trek to mountain sheep camps, "Out to sheep" they called it. There the mothers cooked for sheep hands, bottled a mountain of tomatoes and fruit to last the winter, and raised children. In September, as sheep were driven to winter on deserts, mothers and children returned for school. Life was ruled by lambing, shearing, and shipping. One late snowstorm could freeze thousands of sheep, a family's livelihood. Families were conscious of their behavior being scrutinized when fathers were away, and immigrant cultures put many restrictions on mothers and daughters at those times. Some immigrants never left the coal mines, foremost, Frank Bonacci, organizer for the United Mine Workers of America. He had married a young woman above his class in Italy, and ostracism led to their coming to America. After several years in the Northwest timber camps, they came to Carbon County. Time and again Bonacci was fired from mines because of his union activities and hired after he signed yellow-dog contracts, trading work in mines to keep his children from being hungry. With another miner he began the Carbon County strike of 1922 by demanding of the Kenilworth manager why wages were cut when the price of coal remained steady. 18 Mine guards carried the Bonacci furniture from the company house onto the snow, and strikers moved the family to an abandoned shack on the outskirts of town. The house had neither water nor electricity. Each time Bonacci

Women in the Mining Communities tried to reach his family, National Guard soldiers trained machine guns on him. Several days later Ann Dolinski defied the guard and walked to the house with a basket of food. The younger children could not keep down the omelet she brought after their long hunger. The oldest child, Marion Lupo, said, "My mother was never the same after this experience. She was silent and withdrawn." 1 9 During the strike the wife of Charles Bikakis had gone into labor in her Sunnyside company house. While the pains were increasing and coming closer, she heard the company guards going from one house to another to remove strikers' families and furniture. Screams, shouts, weepings came to her as she struggled to give birth. Dr. Andrew Dowd, the autocrat of the Utah Fuel Company, stood on the porch with a shotgun and told the guards if they dared enter the house he would shoot them. 2 0

Nick and Mae Pappas Bikakis were united in one of the first secondgeneration Greek weddings, 1930, at the Price Greek Orthodox church. Photograph courtesy of Vangie Bikakis Robertson.

Helen Z. Papanikolas

The strike activity of the immigrants brought antialien campaigns in Utah as well as throughout the nation. The Castle Gate explosion of 1924 momentarily halted the hysteria. One hundred seventy-two miners were killed. While the brown-helmeted disaster team searched in the rubble, women ran to the site with canaries. The birds died at the slightest trace of gas, and rescue work was delayed until canaries lived. While the wives and children waited and wept, Killarney Reynolds, Elizabeth McDermid, Vera Litizzette, Catherine Verdi, Jenny Floyd, Jennie Lyn Crane Clark, and others collected blankets, cooked over open fires, heated canned milk for babies, boiled water, and sterilized instruments for the doctors. They worked hand-operated respirators for hours hoping to revive gassed miners. 21 It took ten days to recover all of the bodies. Fifty of the men were Greeks. From the company houses came the ancient keening for the deadâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;highpitched, eerie laments that are traced back to antiquity. Soon after the March 8 explosion the threat of violence toward Catholics and immigrants escalated. By summer the Ku Klux Klan was burning crosses. The author remembers standing at the kitchen window and gazing at a cross burning on a Helper mountainside. Across the valley the Catholics burned a circle for the word naught, a message to the Klan that they were nothing and their organization would come to nothing. For her husband's leadership in the fight against the Klan, Killarney Reynolds found a cross burning in her yard. 22 The railroaders were sharply divided on the Klan, Catholics on one side and almost all Mormon and Protestant men on the other. A few Mormons worked against the Klan, principally the Harry Clarks. To show the Klan their solidarity and determination to do battle, Roger Reynolds and other Catholics drove to Salt Lake City to ask for a Knights of Columbus charter. Many Knights of Columbus from Salt Lake City came to Helper to establish the chapter. Irish Catholic, Croat, Slovene, Italian, and a few Mexican Catholic women prepared communal dinners for them.

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in the Mining

Communities

From top left: Jennie Lyn Crane Clark, piano teacher to two generations of Helper students, photograph courtesy of Woodrow Clark; Esther Frakes and her midwife mother brought much-needed medical assistance to women in childbirth, photograph courtesy of Florence Reynolds; from bottom left: English immigrant Jennie Causer married Joseph Barboglio who became the immigrants' banker, photograph courtesy of Helen Barboglio Leavitt; Filomena Bonacci was the wife of a labor leader and later a stale legislator, photograph courtesy of Marion Bonacci Lupo; Josephine Bonacci came from southern Italy to become a prominent matriarch as the wife of Joe Bonacci, photograph courtesy of Geneva Bonacci Black.

Harry Clark's wife was in the forefront cooking and serving. Jennie Lyn Crane Clark was born in Salina, Utah. She graduated from Brigham Young Academy in 1913, taught in Salina, and then drove a horse and buggy to Aurora, three miles away, to teach school. After marrying in Helper, she began giving piano lessons to support her two sons. Her husband had developed asthma and was told by Dr.

Helen Z. Papanikolas

McDermid to leave town during the summer months or he would die. Many nights Jennie Clark called Killarney Reynolds for help and with Dr. McDermid used a respirator to keep her husband breathing. 23 Jennie Clark brought a touch of culture to the children of Helper and surrounding towns. Like the women who taught Greek school, Jennie Clark influenced lives beyond her home. A salutary influence on the children of immigrants also were the women associated with the YMCA's nondenominational Sunday School. Children who were neither Mormon nor Catholic received their only Bible learning from them. Especially active among the young was Olive Holmes, a native of Norway. During the bootleg era of the 1920s and 1930s, she kept open house on Saturday nights, served cake and punch, and provided books, magazines, and phonograph music for dancing on linoleum floors. Many young people would, she feared, otherwise have spent their Saturdays parked in cars behind the Rainbow Gardens or at roadhouses. Bootlegging was an important business in Carbon County, usually as an adjunct to a regular job. Neither immigrants nor the American-born could take Prohibition seriously. Elected officials were as prone to involvement with illegal liquor as were ordinary citizens. Women participated with their husbands, sometimes willingly because of t h e i m m e n s e profits, often unwillingly. Sheepmen's wives were especially susceptible to arrest while stills worked in their cellars and husbands were at sheep camps. Eluding the "feds" developed ingenuity, and Carbon County has a repertory of successful foils. Zelpha Vuksinick recalls one that took place during the strike of 1922 when her father rented part of their Sunnyside house to the Yankovich family. Utah National Guard soldiers were ordered to search each house for whiskey stills. As two soldiers approached the house, the Yankovich's daughter ran out clutching the cap of a still, her long brown hair flying. Realizing she had a piece of necessary evidence, the

Women in the Mining Communities

soldiers ran after her, but she disappeared. She had climbed a tree next to the Menotti store. Down below people were congregated, talking about the incident. The girl remained in the tree until a wagon came by and she was able to jump into it and hide. Later, at home, Zelpha Vuksinick's father cut the girl's hair. It was dyed red, and she was never caught. 24 The depression years of the 1930s were stagnant, desperate ones for Carbon County; the mines were closed or working half-shift. "We never went visiting in those years," Athena Pallios said, "without taking something with us, a few baby chicks, a rabbit, never empty-handed." It was in Carbon County that she and Argyro Georgelas, who dropped lice-ridden clothes into boiling water, learned to read and write their native Greek. In 1933 the National Miners Union and the UMWA fought for the miners' membership, and in the ensuing strike the women, particularly the Yugoslavians, carried on in the tradition of Mother Jones. They paraded in the front ranks to give men the opportunity to escape when guards and deputy sheriffs descended on them. They cooked for imprisoned strikers, slaughtered pigs, lambs, and chickens they had intended for their hard-pressed families, heckled deputies to exasperation, and defied martial law edicts. A mine manager was caught by "six big Austrian women" who threw him to the ground, took his revolver, and "peed on" him. 25 The strike was lost. The blacklisted National Miners Union men were eventually taken back to the mines, but the women's role in the strike has not been forgotten. A short movie by J. Bracken Lee recorded the march of the strikers, their wives, and children down Price Main Street where a full force of water from a fire hose was turned on them. As the daughters of immigrant women reached adulthood, many realized America's opportunities. Irene Holmes, Jennie Clark's most talented student, had played the piano for silent movies in the Liberty Hall and at the Strand Theater, for weddings, funerals, and Fourth of July

Helen Z. Papanikolas

celebrations. Later, she graduated from the Chicago Conservatory of Music. Florence Reynolds held high positions with the United Nations, the National Institutes of Health, the State Department, and the Department of A g r i c u l t u r e . As d e p u t y s e c r e t a r y of a g r i c u l t u r e she established food programs for countries devastated by World War II. Italian, Greek, and Yugoslav daughters attended the Holy Cross School of Nursing under the watchful eyes of nuns; some became schoolteachers. Assimilation is now complete in Carbon County. Wedding pictures are graphic evidence: from old-country priests in robes and tall black cylindrical hats, American and native flags symbolizing the ambivalence of their love for their native country and the land that gave them their "daily bread," to a Buddhist ceremony, the bride in American finery, the groom in tails. For the third generation more

A second-generation Japanese wedding: Fred Ualaru Taniguchi and Ferry Hiroko Okura. Photograph courtesy of Nancy Jacobus Taniguchi.

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marriages are outside the immigrant culture than within it. The women of Carbon County mining towns deserve more than this brief sketch. Without them the almost fiftyyear struggle for unionization of the mines would have been abandoned early. Their descendants are scattered worldwide; they hold high positions in the armed forces, in the professions, in business, and in government. Some remain in Carbon County, close to their heritage. One hopes that memories of family matriarchs are still unfaded, that they are more than old photographs in picture albums.

NOTES Mrs. Papanikolas, a native of Carbon County, is a Fellow of the Utah State Historical Society and a member of the Board of State History. â&#x20AC;˘Thursey Jessen Reynolds, ed., Centennial Echoes from Carbon County ([Price?]: Daughters of Utah Pioneers of Carbon County, 1948). 2 Phyllis H. Williams, South Italian folkways in Europe and America (New Haven: Yale U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1938), p. 8. Helen Z. Papanikolas, " E t h n i c i t y in Mormondom: A Comparison of Immigrant and Mormon Cultures," ed. Thomas G. Alexander, Soul-butter and Hog Wash and Other Essays on the American West, Charles Redd Monographs in Western History, no. 8 (Provo, Utah: Brigham Young University Press, 1978). 3 For an account of the strike see Allan Kent Powell, "The 'Foreign Element' and the 1903-4 Carbon County Coal Miners' Strike," Utah Historical Quarterly 43 (1975):125-54. 4 Helen Barboglio Leavitt, "The biography of Joseph Barboglio," MS, Utah State Historical Society Library, Salt Lake City. 5 For a short history of the later immigrants see Helen Z. Papanikolas, "The New Immigrants" in Utah's History, ed. Richard D. Poll et al. (Provo, Utah: Brigham Young University Press, 1979). 6 Helen Z. Papanikolas, "Greek Folklore of Carbon County" in Lore of Faith and Folly, ed. Thomas E. Cheney (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1971), pp. 72-73. 'Reminiscences of Emily Zeese, Penelope Koulouris, and Mary Pappas Lines in author's possession. 8 C.A. Allen, "Safety in the Mines of Carbon County," New West Magazine 11 (February 1920): 36-37, covers the years 1914-17; U.S., Department of Commerce, Bureau of Mines, Coal Mine Fatalities, 1930 (I.C. 6530), by A.L. Murray and D. Harrington (Washington, D.C., 1931), table 3, shows average U.S. fatalities as 3.151 per million tons mined. Utah had 7.98 fatalities per million tons mined during the years 1918-29. 'Interview with Mrs. Joe Bonacci, September 12, 1975. '"Interview with Mrs. Pete Georgelas, September 8, 1974. "Interview with Mrs. James Koulouris, June 16, 1971. i2joseph Stipanovich, "Falcons in Flight: The Yugoslavs'" in The Peoples of Utah, ed. Helen Z. Papanikolas (Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1976), pp. 376-77. " H e l e n Z. Papanikolas and Alice Kasai, "Japanese Life in Utah" in The Peoples of Utah, p. 342. "Interview with John Howa, April 10, 1980. ^Interview with Florence Reynolds, March 28, 1980.

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16 Autobiographical sketch, Greek Archives, Special Collections, Marriott Library, University of Utah. 17 Reynolds interview 18 Allan Kent Powell, "A History of Labor Union Activity in the Eastern Utah Coal Fields: 1900-1934" (Ph.D. diss., University of Utah, 1976), chap. 2. "Interview with Marion Bonacci Lupo, May 22, 1972, American West Center, University of Utah, Salt Lake City. "Interview with Helen Bikakis Zoolakis, June 10, 1977. "Reynolds interview. "Ibid. "Ibid. "Interview with Zelpha Vuksinick, April 2, 1980. 25 For an account of the strike see Helen Z. Papanikolas, "Unionism, Communism, and the Great Depression: The Carbon County Strike of 1933," Utah Historical Quarterly 41 (1975): 254-300; Rolla E. West, typescript of the Carbon County strike of 1933, American West Center.

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Comments Nancy Jacobus Taniguchi Helen Papanikolas has told us a great deal about the women of Carbon County who came here to pursue the dream of America. As she has explained, some were pioneer women, others were immigrant women, but they all became part of our community and our history. However, it was only through their own hard work that the promise of America came true. The American dream was real enough to those who came here, so real that they came to a semiarid country where there was plenty of work in the mines, plenty of work in the boardinghouses, plenty of work raising children, plenty of work keeping house. Nothing but hard work faced them, yet they held onto that dream. To their friends and families in the old country, as Helen explained, they sent money, photographs of themselves, and requests for brides. They also wrote what were called "America letters." These letters are now found in archives throughout Europe and are still known by that name. They describe America and they describe its promise. America letters spanned the ocean by the thousands during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. They were passed from hand to hand. Villagers who could read would read them to others who couldn't, to give them news not only of relatives overseas but of what life was like in America. They played a major role in picturing American life, the life of the West, in particular of the frontier, to the rest of the world. Here are a few examples from these America letters, taken from Ray Allen Billington's America's Frontier Culture. A Norwegian folk ballad based on some of these immigrant experiences stated, "I know that venture would cost me dear in the hardships of exposure, to sun and storm in fierce battles with scorpions and serpents and wild beasts in

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deadly duels with drawn daggers." (You wonder what people were writing home about, don't you?) "But that is better than to fight one's own people and get nothing for it." As Helen explained, people were forced to leave by the fighting that was going on in their own countries or because of the domination of other people. The promises of America remained: land of one's own, plenty of food and meat every day, every meal if desired. This was something very unusual in many of the countries from which these people came. Here is an Irish slogan: "The only place in Ireland where a [person] can make a fortune is America." Even more important was equality. If any phrase appeared more often in America letters than "We eat meat three times a day," it was "Here we tip our hats to no one." I wish Helen had included a lovely slide from her collection showing two Greek women with hats on. She has explained that in Greece these women would not have been allowed to wear hats because of their class. Only upper class women were permitted to wear hats. But in America anyone could wear one, and in America they tipped them to no one. Class distinctions here, of course, were based on wealth, not lineage, so anyone could have a chance for the top. That was part of America's promise. There were no peasants and no landlords, not in the European sense. People living in company towns may have suffered, greatly sometimes, from the abuses, but they had other options. They had the opportunity to open businesses, or to start farms, or to move on. Many Carbonites have brothers or sisters or cousins who left, mostly it seems for California, but a majority of the immigrants who came to Carbon County stayed right here. With equality went liberty. This is what someone wrote home: "No emperor and no king has the right to demand us to do anything.""Here I am free," was a repeated phrase in America letters. The writers felt that way in spite of all the hard work that faced them. They may have been tied to the home, in the case of the women, to the children, to the boardinghouse, to the store. Their husbands may

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Comments have been tied to their jobs, and yet they were free, they had other opportunities, These were the promises, the dreams, but the hard work was real enough, a grinding part of the daily life that was endurable only because the dream sustained them. Women worked especially hard, as Helen has told us. In the last few years I have done some research on Spring Glen and interviewed many of the residents. Here are some of their impressions of life in Carbon County. Filomina Fazzio talked about her mother and father who were separated for years: "They had three children in Italy and the mother was left home with the children while the father was here in America working. He'd come home long enough to leave her pregnant and then he'd come back to America. Finally, the grandfather was getting tired of raising the kids, so when the father came home again, he said, 'Either you stay here or you take her with you.' So they came to America." Of course, when they came and as the children grew up there were certain difficulties to be faced. As Helen mentioned, many immigrants brought their customs, among these the outdoor ovens that the Greeks and Italians used. Quite often they were a part of almost every farm. Filomina's mother used one, but this particular oven has been torn down. This story shows one of the difficulties faced by a woman with so much work and so many children. Filomina's sister had been watching their mother work outside, watching her singe a duck over a fire built by the oven. The young girl pretended to do what she had seen her mother do and burned herself very badly. That caused her mother to tear down the oven because, she said, "If I didn't have the oven, the fire wouldn't have been there, if the fire hadn't been there, then my daughter wouldn't have been burned." There was other work, too, but there was also fun. For Christmas the Fazzios invited their family and close friends up to Spring Glen where the Blue Hill Dairy used to be. All the bachelors would come from Sunnyside and stay three or

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four days. The mother cooked for everybody. They would enjoy old-country talk and celebrations, and then they'd go home. Margaret Ariotti talked about another one of the women's domestic dutiesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the housekeeping chores: "The men had made a table out of big two-by-fours with a top and put oil cloth over it. The chairs had probably been bought, but they were so dilapidated that they had them wired together and none of them were the same color. We used to scrub them with lime water. We used to scrub them until they looked so pretty and white; the wood would turn white. On Saturday we used to scrub the kitchen floor and that would get all white and it would be so pretty and clean, but then you'd start cooking and some grease or something would drop on the floor and you couldn't wipe it up; so gradually the floor would get dirty again. So every Saturday that used to be a big thing, to take the chairs outside and scrub them with the wire brush and lime water and scrub the floor. Then you'd have to let it dry and maybe it would last as long as Saturday night." Mrs. Ariotti also talked about farm life and coming down to Helper to go shopping. A trip to Helper was always a treat because they had to work so hard on the farm. Everybody helped each other. When it was potato time all the kids would go on one farm and help and then they'd go to the next farm and help them. That's how the townsfolk communicated. They thought nothing of going to the other end of town to help. They also thought nothing of walking to Helper to get all their groceries: "The only thing hard to carry was a broom. It stuck up and there was no good way to hold it." Of course, one of the problems with coming to Helper during the 1922 strike was that guards were stationed at the town. Filomina talked about this. The whole family had the flu. They weren't well liked by the guards because they knew that her uncle was Frank Bonacci. Her mother had nine children so Filomina had to go for commodities to help her. They had only $6.00 a week to live on. She walked into

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Helper, afraid because the guards were all men and they checked everyone coming and going to make sure that they didn't bring arms and ammunition. She, a twelve-year-old girl, walked down from Spring Glen, got the supplies for the family, and walked back through the guards. All family members had to exhibit courage at this difficult time. However, there were also good times. In spite of the difficulties people found a positive way of looking at their life in America. They still believed in the promise. Margaret Ariotti tells this story about Jess Haycock, a peddler in Spring Glen: "He used to sell Watkins products. He came up to Castle Gate when Keno was a kid and sold products which included linaments, pie fillings, spices, everything you can think of." Margaret remembers when she first moved into her house in Spring Glen that "he came and knocked on the door. When I answered it he asked if there were anything that I would like to buy. I said, 'No, and I don't need a thing,' and he said, 'My, you are a lucky woman.' I've remembered that many times since and often thought about what he said." The final story comes from Gladys Saccomanno. She and her husband, Ernest, who recently passed away, built many of the buildings out on their farm in Spring Glen. She told me about the times they went up to Indian Canyon to bring out lumber to make the rafters for these buildings. They used lodgepole pine because it was so long and straight. Ernest drove the wagon and Gladys helped him snake out the lumber around the bends in the canyon. They both told me about it: "We put it all up and put up the buildings and did what we could, put in the windows, did all the wiring, the plumbing and stuccoed it. Yep, that's right, we stuccoed it. What a job." Gladys said, "Sure, even then I didn't know it, but I belonged to women's liberation." So, those were the experiences, some of them, here in Carbon County. Helen tells them so much better and tells so many more. But these stories, taken together, are only representative of the hundreds and thousands of lives that were spent in Carbon County. I am sorry I can't tell a story

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Nancy Jacobus Taniguchi for everyone. Helen has told us much, much more about the promise of America and given us a wonderfully clear explanation of the people, especially the women, who worked to make that dream come true. Did they succeed in achieving that dream? Look around. Here in Carbon County is the flowering of that promise. T h e immigrants and the pioneers, the first generation, planted the seed, their children. The second generation made it grow. Their grandchildren have brought it to flower. We are all part of that dream. When the first immigrants wrote their first "America letters" home they described misery, sickness, and hard times. Yet, the present life we enjoy is what they were working for. Through their work and ours the dream has come true. Helen has done us a great service by retelling that story so beautifully. She has told our own story, what made all of us and what made Carbon County what we and it are today. We can all be proud of that achievement. Ms. Taniguchi, a resident of Price, is a doctoral student in history at the University of Utah.

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Latter-day Saint Settlement of Eastern Utah: A Story of Faith, Courage, and Tolerance Leonard J. Arrington The Latter-day Saints first attempted to settle eastern Utah in the summer of 1855 when forty-one men were called, under the leadership of Alfred N. Billings, to establish the Elk Mountain (or La Sal Mountain) Mission among the Indians at the Colorado River crossing, then called the Grand River crossing, near present-day Moab. Despite some initial success in establishing friendly relations with the Yampa Ute Indians of that area, some of the latter, o b s e r v i n g t h e c o n s t r u c t i o n of a fort, a t t a c k e d the

Above: Erected at Main and First East in Price, this Mormon structure is now gone. USHS collections.

Leonard J. Arrington

missionaries three months after their arrival, killed three, wounded President Billings, and set fire to their winter supply of hay and corn. The mission was abandoned in haste in September 1855. 1 During the next two decades no attempts were made to settle the area. Not only were hostile Indians a deterrent, but ample land and water were available on the western side of the Wasatch. During the Black Hawk War of 1866-67, however, Mormon militiamen became better acquainted with the geography of eastern Utah. Indians swooped down from that area to make raids upon livestock, particularly in Sanpete County. Posses of young whites who had enlisted in the Nauvoo Legion followed rebel Indian raiding parties into the recesses east of the Wasatch and thus became familiar with the mountains, valleys, and creeks of the region. With the confinement of most of these Indians to the Uinta region in the late 1860s, settlement in eastern Utah again seemed feasible.2 The interest in settling eastern Utah in the 1870s thus seems to have been a product of five factors. First, the settlement of families was by that time regarded as relatively safe. Second, the area seemed to the militiamen who had explored it to be splendid for grazing. Third, there was a pressing need for new sites for settlement to provide land for the second generation of Utahns now ready to commence farming. Sanpete Valley, which had been settled since 1849 and had one of the highest birthrates in the territory, was overcrowded, with 1,623 families in 1877. Fourth, herds of cattle and sheep had been built up, necessitating n e w grazing a r e a s . Facilitated by the organization of cooperative sheep herds in 1869, and by the further concentration of these herds under the United Order in 1874, the expanding livestock industry was searching for new grazing lands f a r t h e r a w a y from established settlements west of the Wasatch. Fifth, there was a desire on the part of Mormon authorities to preempt the land from non-Mormon herders who were filtering into the area from Colorado and New Mexico. All five of these

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Latter-day Saint Settlement factors seem to have been important, and all are mentioned in the letters, reports, and speeches of the period. T h r e e c o l o n i z a t i o n m o v e m e n t s t h a t r e s u l t e d in permanent settlements in eastern Utah proceeded more or less simultaneously. O n e of these, from Sanpete Valley into Castle Valley, began in 1877. A second group moved from Sevier and Iron counties into the San Juan region of southeastern Utah in 1879-80, settling Bluff and, later, Monticello and Blanding. A related project was the settlement of s o u t h e r n converts (i.e., M o r m o n s from M i s s i s s i p p i , A l a b a m a , a n d T e x a s ) in s o u t h w e s t e r n Colorado. The third group moved into the Uinta Basin in the fall of 1877 and settled Ashley Center, now Vernal; and in the years that followed established Jensen, Mountain Dell Mill (later Maeser), Naples, and Glines. All of these had ranching or livestock grazing as a primary objective. The focus here is primarily on the first of these movements, that into eastern Sanpete County, out of which Carbon and Emery counties were later created. 3

The Emery County Merc, located in Price, ca. 1890. Carbon County Historical Society collections.

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The first initiative in the settlement of eastern Sanpete County was taken by Brigham Young when he promised the friendly Utes in central Utahâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;those not going to the Uinta Reservationâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;to save most of Thistle Valley for them as a herding ground. 4 Jefferson Tidwell and others, who had earlier been given approval to settle Thistle Valley, were authorized to relocate in Castle Valley if they wished or transfer elsewhere in Sanpete Valley. As a part of this plan, Brigham Young asked Tidwell and four others in the summer of 1877 to explore the country on the headwaters of the San Rafael River and the valley of the San Rafael. Their exploration determined that the three streams known as Ferron Creek, Cottonwood Creek, and Huntington Creek, after converging into one stream a short distance below the present Castle Dale settlement, passed through a box canyon which further down opened out into a narrow valley. They gave a splendid report of the country bordering the three streams in the upper valley but suggested that it would be hard to control the waters. The climate they thought was excellent. 5 At the same time, to assure a sizable contingent in Castle Valley, Brigham Young, just three days before his death, wrote a letter to C a n u t e (Knud) Peterson, the S c a n d i n a v i a n - b o r n p r e s i d e n t of the newly organized Sanpete Stake, instructing him to call fifty men to go to Castle Valley in the fall of 1877 and be prepared to settle there with their families in the spring of 1878. 6 There are numbers of the brethren in different portions of Sanpete County, who have not an abundant supply of water for their land, who would, no doubt, be happy to remove to a valley where the water is abundant and the soil good. We should like to have, at least, fifty families locate in Castle Valley this fall; but if some of the brethren cannot take their families this year, it would be well for them to go themselves, secure their locations and commence work. In making your selection choose good, energetic, God-fearing young men, whether single or with families, and others who can be spared without interfering with the interests of

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Latter-day Saint Settlement the settlements in which they now reside, such ones as will be a strength to the new settlement, and an aid to its growth in all that we, as Latter-day Saints, desire to see increase upon the earth. 7 In a special priesthood meeting of Sanpete Stake held at Mount Pleasant on September 22, 1877, the instruction was followed. O n motion of Apostle Erastus Snow, President Peterson and counselors were appointed to make a selection of men to settle Castle Valley. After the close of the meeting this committee chose Christian G. Larsen of Spring City to preside. Soon afterwards seventy-five proportioned to the different wards in Sanpete were called to settle. A number of them, however, did not respond to the call, so other persons were called in November to go the following spring. 8 Christian Larsen was fifty-eight years of age. A native of Denmark, he had been a soldier there, baptized and confirmed in 1851 under the direction of Erastus Snow. He served two proselyting missions in Denmark, totaling six years. He then emigrated to Utah and settled in Ephraim for two years until 1860 when he was ordained bishop of Spring City Ward and served eight years. In 1873 he was called on a special mission to Europe to succeed Canute Peterson as president of the Scandinavian Mission. After two years in that service he returned to Spring City where he resided at the time of this call. But apparently the call was not convenient for him to accept, or other considerations that are not recorded entered into the picture. At any rate, shortly after this call, at a council of some of the apostles held at Nephi, Juab County, Orange Seeley (sometimes spelled Seely) was called to superintend the founding of settlements on the headwaters of the San Rafael. Seeley, w h o was t h i r t y - f o u r in 1877, was an impressive person by any standard. More than six feet tall, and approximately three hundred pounds in weight, Seeley had been born in Lee County, Iowa, just across the Mississippi from Nauvoo, shortly before the Mormons were expelled from their homes in Illinois and eastern Iowa . He

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was four years old when the family reached the Salt Lake Valley in 1847. Two years later his father took the family to San Bernardino, California, as part of the pioneer colony there. Upon the call back from southern California in 1858, with the outbreak of the Utah War, the family settled in Mount Pleasant. By then Orange was sixteen and began farming operations on his own behalf. He was married at age twenty to Hannah Olsen, native of Sweden. By 1877 they had five children. One reason for choosing Seeley, no doubt, was that two years earlier, as an employee of the Mount Pleasant United Order, he had crossed the Wasatch Mountains from Mount Pleasant with two wagons, eight yoke of oxen, 1,500 head of sheep, and about 1,400 head of horned cattle. The men and their h e r d s e n t e r e d C a s t l e Valley t h r o u g h Cottonwood Canyon, or at least traveled down Cottonwood Creek. According to best authority, these were the first wagons ever taken from Sanpete into Castle Valley. The men made a dugout about twenty-by-thirty feet in what is now Wellington, and there the herders, about a dozen men including two Indians, lived while herding their stock during the winter of 1875-76 and the following summer. When the Mount Pleasant United Order dissolved in 1876 Orange Seeley rented the sheep and herded stock for the individual owners during the winter of 1876-77.9 So, then, it was under the leadership of Orange Seeley that the men started from Mount Pleasant on October 20, 1877. Accompanying him were Niels P. Miller, Jasper Peterson, James H. Wilcox, and Joseph Burnett of Mount Pleasant; and Erastus Curtis, Sr., with his two sons William B. and Erastus, Jr., George H. Brunno, and Peter Andersen, all of Moroni. This little company, which traveled with five wagons drawn by oxen, passed up Dry Creek, leaving Sanpete Valley near the point where the present settlement of Milburn s t a n d s , and crossed t h e s u m m i t of the mountains onto the headwaters of Cottonwood Creek. They had to make a new road part of the way. After a toilsome journey they arrived in Castle Valley on November

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Latter-day Saint Settlement 2, 1877. None of these first settlers of Castle Valley had his family with him at this time. 10 Among other things, Seeley was instructed to locate townsites on grounds that were not subject to landslides or mountain torrents and to use his best judgment in making the most of such natural advantages as the country afforded. Farms were laid out and a small log cabin built. O n November 17, 1877, at the first quarterly stake conference of Sanpete Stake, Seeley was sustained as bishop of Castle Valley. At a following conference, thirty-nine families w e r e called t o s e t t l e C a s t l e V a l l e y , t h u s strengthening the initial colonization of 1877-78. n Seeley and six others remained that first winter to herd sheep and cattle and engage in trapping experiments. They caught thirteen wolves in one night. 12 During the years 1877-79, then, officially designated groups of men and their families established settlements, c r e a t i n g by t h e end of 1878 t h r e e L a t t e r - d a y Saint communities: Castle Dale, the largest, on Cottonwood Creek; Ferron, on Ferron Creek; and H u n t i n g t o n , on Huntington Creek. Orange Seeley, as presiding bishop over these settlements, in January 1879 appointed a leading settler in each of these three areas to be presiding elder and later in the year organized a ward and made each presiding elder a bishop. In Castle Dale this first bishop was Jasper P e t e r s o n ; in F e r r o n it was William Taylor; and in Huntington, Elias Cox. A l m o s t i m m e d i a t e l y each of these s e t t l e m e n t s expanded, with persons locating on land near the initial colonies. 13 Thus, another settlement two or three miles west of Castle Dale was made by Erastus Curtis and others, mostly young couples from Fountain Green and Manti. There were sufficient families in this new townsite to justify the creation of a new ward in 1882 with Jasper Robertson as bishop. The ward was named Orangeville, in admiration of Orange Seeley. Southeast of Ferron Ward settlers from Spring City located on Muddy Creek, and a ward was organized there in

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Caleb Rhoades, holding right corner of banner, was one of the area's first settlers. Mormon old-timers gathered for festivities ca. 1900. Carbon County Historical Society collections.

1883 with Casper Christensen as bishop. Still later, northeast of Ferron, settlers located on what was originally North Flat, then Kingsville, and finally Clawson, which was organized as a branch in 1902, although first settled in 1895. A third settlement on Ferron Creek, founded in 1878, was organized into Molen Ward in 1884. Another settlement that emerged as a ward in 1920 was Rochester, located on the flat between Elmo and Ferron. An outgrowth of Huntington was Cleveland, settled in 1885 and organized in 1890 with Lars Peter Oveson as bishop. An outgrowth of Cleveland was Elmo, which was organized as a branch in 1912 and as a ward in 1913. Another outgrowth of Cleveland was Desert Lake. Settled in 1885 by Samuel and Thomas Wells and organized as a branch in 1896, it became a ward in 1904. The Desert Lake townsite was washed away several times by the breaking of their dam, however, and they eventually located nearby at

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Victor, organized as a ward in 1914. Another branch of Huntington, organized in 1886, was Florence. This area had been settled by Simeon Drollinger as early as 1879. Because of the scarcity of water the ward was discontinued in 1921, and the few remaining settlers were once more placed in Huntington Ward. O n e other agricultural settlement made during this early period was Price. Explored by the Tidwell party in the summer of 1877, the Price River was also investigated the same year by Caleb B. Rhoades and Abraham Powell, from Salem in Utah County. Several LDS families located there in 1879, and an LDS branch was organized in 1881. Some Latter-day Saints also located on an oasis of the Grand River, their name for the Colorado, in 1880. They were close enough to the old Elk Mountain Fort of 1855 to use the ditches made there by the missionaries twenty-five years earlier. This was organized as Moab Ward in 1881, with Randolph W. Stewart as bishop. Considering the large number of settlers in Castle Valley and nearby regions, the Utah Territorial Legislature in 1880 o r g a n i z e d t h e area as Emery C o u n t y . T h e installation of officers took place in August 1880, and Castle Dale was made the county seat. At the same time, the valley was visited by Mormon apostles Erastus Snow, Brigham Young, Jr., and Francis M. Lyman, and by Canute Peterson, president of Sanpete Stake, of which the Latter-day Saint settlements had been a part. At that time these officials once more appointed Christian G. Larsen, Danish resident of Moroni by then, to preside over the Saints in that area, with Orange Seeley as his first counselor. Emery Stake was more fully organized two years later. At that time the stake comprised Castle Dale, Ferron, Orangeville, Huntington, and Moab as wards, and Price, which had only fifteen families, as a branch. Shortly after the organization of the stake some other w a r d s and b r a n c h e s w e r e added, p e r h a p s t h e most important of which was Wellington, named for Orange Seeley's brother, Justus Wellington Seeley. "Wink" Seeley,

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as he was sometimes called, went to Castle Valley in the fall of 1877, taking about seventy-five head of cattle he owned, and about three hundred he was herding for others. When he moved his family in the fall of 1878, his wife Anna was in an advanced state of pregnancy. Not wishing to delay until winter when the crossing of the Wasatch would be impossible, he took along a midwife, "just in case." The "just in case" did happen, and his first daughter, Clarissa, was born on the mountain top, just as they were about to enter Castle Valley. Mother and daughter both did well!14 Jefferson Tidwell remained presiding elder of the little branch until 1890, when Wellington Ward was organized with Albert E. McMullin as bishop. "Wink" Seeley, like his brother Orange, went on to become a county commissioner and a prominent stockraiser and businessman. Shortly after these initial settlements of stockmen and farmers, the discovery of coal mines and the coming of the Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad propelled the

Price Co-operative Mercantile Institution. Such a store was a feature of most Mormon communities. Carbon County Historical Society collections.

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migration into eastern Utah far beyond the initial impetus. These developments also attracted large numbers of Latterday Saints. In the early 1870s coal had been discovered in Pleasant Valley at a place later known as Winter Quarters. This coal was developed by a group of Mormon and other capitalists in Springville, Utah County. Some 8,000 feet above sea level, this valley also had a plentiful supply of timber. In 1878 John E. Ingles and Stewart Eccles of Ogden set up a shingle mill on Mud Creek six miles above present Scofield. Additional sawmills were established by David Eccles and others, and large quantities of lumber were shipped to the expanding community of Ogden. The area was also used as a herding ground in the summer by people from Salt Lake and Utah valleys. These coal miners and ranchers were organized into the Pleasant Valley Branch in 1881 and became the Pleasant Valley Ward two years later, with David Williams as bishop. An outgrowth of this ward was a settlement in 1880 which was organized as Scofield Ward in 1888. The first town to benefit from the advance of the Denver & Rio Grande Western into Utah was Price. In early 1882, when the Emery Stake was organized, Price, as previously indicated, was a branch of only fifteen families. It was clearly destined to expand. Stake officials created the Price Ward in the latter part of 1882, with George Frandsen of Mount Pleasant as bishop. A townsite was surveyed early in 1883, and a log meetinghouse was built. The settlement grew rapidly. The second Denver & Rio Grande town, if one may call it that, was Helper. James D. Gay of Spanish Fork had taken up a claim there in 1880. Later, the family of Teancum Pratt moved there. A branch was organized in 1885, and a ward was finally created in 1930. A third railroad town was Green River, founded in 1884, which was organized as a ward in 1904. The completion of the railroad connection, of course, greatly expanded the marketability of the coal of the Price

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River Canyon region, and coal towns began springing up in profusion. Latter-day Saints, historically associated with the development of agriculture in this region, also played a role in the expansion of mining. Perhaps the best measure of the Latter-day Saint presence in the coal towns is the spread of branches and wards in those regions. The most important of these may have been Castle Gate, where it was determined in 1888 that the coal would make coke. So an important coal-mining town came into existence, with carloads of coal being shipped within a few months after that determination was made. An LDS b r a n c h was o r g a n i z e d t h e r e in November 1888, with William T. Lamph as presiding elder. The Castle Gate Ward was organized five years later. In 1924 the bishop of Castle Gate Ward, Benjamin Foster Thomas, was one of the 172 workers killed in the terrible explosion of that year in the mines. Other coal-mining camps developed in the region were Clear Creek, opened in the 1890s with an LDS branch organized in 1901 and a ward in 1911; Sunnyside, organized as a branch in 1900 and as a ward in 1901; Columbia, organized as a branch in 1925; Hiawatha, as a branch in 1920 (incidentally, their chapel was built in 1924 by the U.S. Fuel Company, which also built a community chapel for other faiths); Kenilworth, as a branch in 1921; and Standardville or Spring Canyon, as a branch in 1921. At no stage in the history of this region was there a dichotomy, Mormon farmers and stockmen on the one hand, Gentile m i n e r s on t h e o t h e r . From t h e very b e g i n n i n g , M o r m o n s as well as n o n - M o r m o n s were involved in nearly all of eastern Utah's mining and railroad, as well as farming, communities. Indeed, the Mormon presence was sufficient to justify the organization of a separate stake in 1910. Named after Carbon County, Carbon Stake was organized in 1910 with Gustave O. Iverson as first stake president. Wards included in the stake were: Price, Castle Gate, Green River, Pleasant Valley, Scofield, Spring Glen, Sunnyside, and Wellington. One may legitimately ask, what kind of Latter-day

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Saints were these? Were they more wild than those of the early established settlements west of the Wasatch? One of them was Peter Shirts, who did have wild proclivities, if one can judge by a letter written to him by Brigham Young. He had addressed a letter to the prophet asking him to bless him with a wife. Here is Brigham Young's reply: I would gladly bless you, agreeable to the request in your note if you would take a course to retain such blessings after they are confered upon you. But you are naturally inclined to be a little wild, and to draw away from settlements to places unpleasant and unsafe. I understand you have lately been expressing a wish to settle in Uinta Valley, and until you tame your thoughts and actions so far as to be willing to live where a family can be safe and have a reasonable opportunity for social enjoyment and improvement, it will be altogether best for you to continue to lead the life of a hermit. Brother, I know of no women worth a groat who would be willing to agree with your wild unsocial ways for any length of time. Your brother in the Gospel.15 Another piece of evidence is the record of a conference in this area at which J. Golden Kimball was the visiting general authority. One of his tasks was to appoint a new bishop. He interviewed a number of leading men and then presented to the ward the name of the person he expected them to sustain. But the announcement was not met with enthusiasm by the congregation, and one brother voted against him. Elder Kimball then asked him to explain why. The brother in the rear simply said, "That man is not fit to be a bishop." Elder Kimball, according to the record, responded by saying, "That is true, brother; he is not fit to be a bishop. But I've been interviewing a considerable number of brethren, and none of them are fit to be bishop; but he comes closer to being fit than anyone else. Now all of those who will sustain him, raise the right hand." This time the brother got a unanimously favorable vote. 16 These incidents aside, all the evidence shows eastern Utah settlers to have been resourceful and loyal Latter-day

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School children in front of the Slorrs LDS church, 1924. Carbon County Historical Society collections.

Saints. One evidence of their striving for the higher things is their support of schools. There were wintertime schools in most of the wards and branches from the earliest years. These were Mormon schoolsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;not public schools, to make that distinctionâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;and they were more or less under the direction of the presiding elder or bishop. As the number of colonists increased and they moved from log cabins into more commodious buildings, they founded a secondary school or high school called the Emery Stake Academy. Although founded in 1890, progress was retarded because there was no suitable building in which to hold meetings and classes. But in 1899 a building was acquired in which the academy functioned until 1910, at which time it moved into a modern white brick school building completed that year. Raising money to support the academy was not always easy, and there is evidence of special assessments. The Emery Stake High Council record, for example, states that on January 3, 1901, deacons were assessed 75 cents each, the elders $2.00, seventies and high priests $2.50, bishops and presiding elders $5.00, and the stake president $25.00. 17

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Emery Stake Academy graduated from thirty to thirty-five students annually from its full four-year high school course. There was instruction in theology, history, and ethics, as well as some of the more customary subjects taught in high school. Non-Mormon students were welcome, but because of the emphasis on LDS teachings, there were not many. With the opening up of high schools operated by the state in 1922, Emery Stake Academy, along with other church schools in Utah, was discontinued, and seminaries were established near the high schools. One of the early students in the academy who later attained international fame as a sociologist was Lowry Nelson. Lowry and his brother Victor went to the BYU high school in Provo for two years after they had completed the eighth grade in Ferron. His parents justified this, he said, by admitting that There was little for teenagers to do during the winter months in Ferron, except to do the farm chores at night and morning, haul manure, and probably go to the field to feed any cattle or horses that might be there instead of at home in the village. I was going to seed, and doing things that were disapproved [presumably stealing a few drinks and smokes]. In retrospect, I recognize it was a wise decision our parents made to send me to Provo.18 Their total expense for the year, he said, was $400, much of which came from the sale of butter that their mother processed and the eggs sold to the Ferron peddlers who freighted it to the mining camps of Carbon County. 1 9 When the Emery Stake Academy moved into its new building at Castle Dale in 1910, the boys decided to spend their third and fourth years there. The faculty consisted, according to Nelson, of two teachers from the University of Utah and three from Brigham Young University. Nelson was offered a job as student assistant to one of the teachers to correct English compositions and could earn as much as $5.00 per month, which added to the attractiveness of going

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to the local school. 20 He had classes in zoology, physics, and psychology. In the latter class, he said, they used William James's famous Principles of Psychology as the text. The academy was housed in a two-story brick building located on the east bench of Castle Dale; the first floor was mainly classrooms, while the upper floor was mostly taken up with the gymnasium, which was used for assemblies, lectures, concerts, and Friday night dances. Near the principal's office on the second floor was the library, and Nelson, in addition to other duties, was also the librarian. We had no more than a dozen books on the shelves. These, however, included the works of Balzac, a writer of whom I had never heard. I wouldn't have remembered it to this day had not a stranger from downtown called and asked to borrow some books. I was told later that he had come out from the East for his health to live in a dry climate such as ours; he also found a drouth of reading matter. When he asked what books were available, I looked up on the shelf and said, There is something here by Balzac." "Balzac," he almost shouted. He borrowed one or two of the volumes, apparently delighted at having discovered them. Otherwise, we didn't even have the books by the most popular fiction writer of the day, Harold Bell Wright. I had somehow been able to obtain his books elsewhere during these years.21 Nelson goes on to say that the enrollment was small, probably not more than seventy-five, "but it was possible to present a school play and opera, as well as piano recitals and chorus for assemblies." The teacher of music, he wrote, was W. King Driggs, later to achieve fame as the father of the radio and TV singers known as the King Sisters. "Driggs presented an opera which he wrote himself, for which he painted the scenery, and provided the piano accompaniment while directing the chorus by nodding his head." 22 "They presented it not only in the Academy to a large audience, but travelled with it to other towns. Miss Palmer presented a school play in which I was cast in the leading role." There were no official academy athletic teams, although they

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played some baseball with the town team in the spring. In addition to these student activities, Nelson wrote, the academy was "able somehow to bring some lecturers from the outside and at least one piano concert by John T. Hand, a talented musician who received basic training at Brigham Young University before going to New York. He was an excellent tenor as well as pianist." They had at least one lecturer from outside the state, and Orson F. Whitney, apostle of the Mormon church and poet of local renown, appeared twice during the 1911-12 year to give readings of his poetry. 2 3 In the year of Nelson's graduation from the academy, 1912, Carbon County voted a bond issue that made possible the construction and equipping of a high school building, and so Carbon County High School opened that fall. There were eight faculty members, three with degrees from Utah State Agricultural College, as it was then called, in Logan; three from the University of Utah; one from BYU; and one from outside of Utah who taught English and languages. Nelson became the janitor, took the leading part in the school play, and won the state high school oratorical contest held at the University of Utah. He did not have the money to go to Salt Lake City, he said, "so I went to the bank and borrowed $10." It helped that the cashier of the bank was president of the Board of Education. This man, said Nelson, also attended the contest and when the judges announced that Nelson had won first place, the man rose and shouted, "Hurray for Carbon!" 24 To welcome the hero upon his return the students had scoured the foothills for wood for a giant bonfire, and the band was at the station to greet him. He was then invited to give his oration in most of the communities in Carbon County to generate further support for the high school. 25 Nelson went on to become a director of extension at Brigham Young University, director of the Experiment Station at Utah State University, assistant director of the Division of Rural Rehabilitation of the Resettlement Adminstration in Washington, D.C., professor of sociology

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at t h e U n i v e r s i t y of M i n n e s o t a , advisor t o foreign governments on rural problems, president of the Rural Sociological Society, and author of eight important books on rural sociology. The role of Nelson's mother in earning the money for her sons to attend the Brigham Young University and Emery Stake Academy suggests the vital role Latter-day Saint women played in developing the cultural resources of Carbon and Emery counties. Richard Jensen has gone through the minutes of the Price Ward Relief Society for the first twenty-five years of its existence, 1886-1911, and the variety of their activities can only provoke admiration. The members regularly "gleaned" grain from the fields and contributed it to poor farmers wiped out by drouth, frost, grasshoppers, or other calamity; gave grain to poor widows; and furnished grain for t h e c o n s t r u c t i o n of ward m e e t i n g h o u s e s and s c h o o l h o u s e s . T h e y built several granaries in which to store this produce. They also built Relief Society halls so they could have their own building in which to meet and transact their business, independent of the bishop. They bought a carding machine and collected and made clothing, quilts, and bed ticks for the poor, and temple and burial clothing. They donated toward the operation of the Deseret Hospital in Salt Lake City, the construction of the Manti and Salt Lake temples, and supplied materials for the carpet used in the Manti Temple. They conducted old folks parties each year; purchased a breast pump, doctor book, syringe, bedpan, and hot water bottle; had lessons on health; served as midwives; and donated all the eggs laid by their hens on Sunday to philanthropic causes. They were concerned that their daughters avoid "keeping company" with persons not of their faith, and advised them to "beware of outside influences." They encouraged their sons to keep out of the saloons in Price, and they agitated for temperance. In this connection, it is interesting to note that a visiting apostle, Francis M. Lyman, counseled them to be "spiritually minded but not to excess." "Parents," he said, "sometimes sicken

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Latter-day Saint Settlement

their children by excessive preaching to them. Be prudent, therefore, in this matter." 2 6 Significantly, in 1889 the president of the Emery Stake Relief Society, Mrs. William Howard, whose husband was the second counselor to President Larsen of Emery Stake, organized them into a women's suffrage association and in the years that followed they lobbied for women's suffrage, a privilege they had been granted by the Utah Territorial Legislature in 1870 but which the Congress had taken away from them in 1887. 27 The discussions of the men in their priesthood quorums also reflect the attitudes and way of life of the Latter-day Saints of eastern Utah. 28 They were advised to "cease quarreling over politics," to set out shade trees and beautify their homes; they must be just in dividing their water so that all crops may mature, and they should plant grass on all school grounds and public squares. All those guilty of jumping land were subject to being dealt with by church courts. Card playing was discouraged, dances were to be conducted in an orderly manner by responsible men, and parents were counseled to guard their children from association with "the wicked." Significantly, a visiting apostle, according to the clerk, "advised that all must be unprejudiced in voting for n o n - M o r m o n candidates." "Although they are in the minority," he went on, "they should have equal rights." 29 Visitors from Salt Lake City were almost invariably complimentary of the achievements the settlers had madein redeeming the desert. Apostle Brigham Young, Jr.,' for example, on November 10, 1895, after commending them for t h e i r i n d u s t r y in r e n d e r i n g " t h i s b a r r e n land" productive, declared, "The day will come when you have the pure in heart in this place. This will welcome holy angels to dwell among you. This is one of the gathering places of the Saints pointed out by the Lord." 30 Above all, said visiting apostle Orson F. Whitney, "do not send boys and girls to Salt Lake City [for schooling]; it is a wicked cityâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the devil's headquarters." 3 1 Any person who has devoted time to studying the

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history of the settlement and growth of Carbon and Emery c o u n t i e s c a n n o t b u t be i m p r e s s e d w i t h t h e m a n y u n f o r g e t t a b l e p e r s o n a l i t i e s — w i t h O r a n g e Seeley, a mountain of man with a mountain of a heart, who set broken bones, pulled teeth, and helped many a family through rough times; Orange's wife Hannah, a native of Sweden, who declared, "The first time I ever swore was when we arrived in Emery County, and I said 'Damn a man who would bring a woman to such a God Forsaken Country!' "32 but who stuck it through and reared a large and honorable family; Margaret Bryner, wife of the blind Swiss convert Hans Ulrich Bryner, Jr., who drove the team for her husband into the area, brought the first bees into Price Canyon, was a superb practical nurse, and reared a large family, of whom two became bishops; Thomas J. Parmley, an English coal miner who taught these western Americans how to mine coal and who was associated with the Winter Quarters coal mine for thirty-two years; and many others. The Latter-day Saints in eastern Utah left a heritage of faith, courage, and tolerance that all can admire and emulate. NOTES Dr. Arrington is director of the Joseph Fielding Smith Institute for Church History and Lemuel Redd Professor of Western History at Brigham Young University. Charles S. Peterson, Look to the Mountains: Southeastern Utah and the La Sal National Forest (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1975), pp. 11-15; Milton R. Hunter , Brigham Young, the Colonizer, 3d ed. (Independence, Mo.: Zions Printing & Publishing Co., 1945), pp. 63-85; Manuscript History of Elk Mountain Mission in the Archives Divison, Historical Department, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Salt Lake City (clerk was Oliver B. Huntington); Alfred N. Billings, Diary, 1855, Lee Library, Brigham Young University, Provo; Oliver B. Huntington, "Elk Mountain Mission," fuvenile Instructor 30 (1895): 224-27, 279-83, 306-10, 363-66; William B. Pace, Journal, typescript, Lee Library. 2 Andrew L. Neff, History of Utah, 1847-1869 (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Press, 1940); Hunter, Brigham Young, the Colonizer: Richard D. Poll et al., eds., Utah's History (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1978). ^Peterson, Look to the Mountains; S. George Ellsworth, Utah's Heritage (Salt Lake City: Peregrine Smith, 1972), pp. 287-88; Poll, Utah's History, pp. 378-86; LeonardJ. Arrington, Great Basin Kingdom: An Economic History of the Latter-day Saints, 1830-1900 (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1958). ••William S. Seeley to Brigham Young, March 17, 1877, Brigham Young Collection, LDS Archives. 5 A written report of the Tidwell exploring company is in the LDS Archives. See also Emery Stake Manuscript History, 1877, LDS Archives.

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Latter-day Saint Settlement

6 During the early months of 1877 prior to his death, Brigham Young had organized stakes up ana down the territory to assure effective local leadership of church and community affairs. Sanpete Stake was organized as a part of this campaign on July 4,1877, with Canute Peterson, a Norwegian immigrant-convert as stake president. Under his leadership, that fall a decision was made to call persons to settle Castle Valley. Although the "official" church list shows Sanpete Stake organized on July 4, 1877, the Sanpete Stake Manuscript History shows that Father Isaac Morley was functioning as a stake president as early as 1850, complete with a high council. In 1860 Welcome Chapman was functioning as a stake president with a high council. In 1861 Orson Hyde, the resident apostle, appointed a second high council for the stake, so there was a north and a south stake high council. A formal and "more correct" stake was organized in 1877, with Canute (or Knud) Peterson (or Petersen) as stake president. See Bill Hartley, "The Priesthood Reorganization of 1877: Brigham Young's Last Achievement," Brigham Young University Studies 20 (1979):3-36. 'Brigham Young to Canute Peterson, 22 August 1877, Brigham Young Letterbook No. 15, pp. 157-58, LDS Archives. 8 Emery Stake Manuscript History, 'Ibid., 1875, 1876, 1877. '°Ibid„ 1877. "Deseret News, 27:477 (August 22, 1878). 12 Emery Stake Manuscript History, 1877-78. 13 Andrew Jenson, Encyclopedic History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Publishing Co., 1941), entries under each of the wards, branches, and stakes. Thursey Jessen Reynolds, ed., Centennial Echoes from Carbon County ([Price?]: Daughters of Utah Pioneers of Carbon County, 1948). 14 W.H. Lever, History of Sanpete and Emery Counties, Utah (Salt Lake City: Tribune Job Printing Co., 1898), p. 619. 15 Brigham Young to Peter Shirts, February 1860, Brigham Young Letterbook No. 3. 10 I have been unable to document this story, which was told to me by a former high councilor of Price Stake. But I believe it happened. I'Emery Stake High Council Record, 1883-85 and 1898-1902, LDS Archives. 18 Lowry Nelson, "Eighty: One Man's Way There," 1973, p. 4. Typescript in possession of writer. 19 Ibid„ p. 5. "Ibid., p. 12. "Ibid., pp. 13-14. "Ibid., p. 14. "Ibid., pp. 14-15. "Ibid., p. 19. "Ibid., p. 20. " E m e r y Stake Historical Record, November 5, 1893, LDS Archives. " S e e Mormon Sisters: Women in Early Utah, ed. Claudia L. Bushman (Cambridge, Mass.: Emmeline Press Limited, 1976). " E m e r y Stake Historical Record, 1885-91 and 1899-1910. "Ibid., November 7, 1892; May 6, 1893; August 5, November 6, 1894; August 11, 1895; May 11, August 9, 1896. 3°Ibid., November 10, 1895. "Ibid., August 6, 1910. " U t a h Writers' Program, Utah: A Guide to the State (New York: Hastings House, 1941), p. 402.

129

130

The Carbon County Freight Road to the Uinta Basin Edward A. Geary

From the Book Cliffs south to the Sinbad country and the Fishlake Mountains the eye can reach across Castle Valley to the uttermost limits without hindrance, but there is nevertheless a very significant boundary within the valleyâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; a straight, invisible line running east and west, just north of Mounds and Horse Canyon, dividing Carbon from Emery County. Certainly that line seemed important years ago. Those who lived in Emery County would have been appalled to be mistaken for Carbonites, and those who lived on the Above: A Uinta Basin freighting outfit ca. 1895 in front of Price Trading Company. Carbon County Historical Society collections and Helper Mining Museum.

Edward A. Geary other side of the line were probably equally anxious not to be taken for Emery County hayseeds. Yet, the valley's early history was essentially the same on both sides of the line. Indeed, the line did not even exist until 1894. Mormon settlements were established on all of the major streams in the late 1870s, the Price River, the t h r e e b r a n c h e s of t h e San Rafael, and t h e Muddy. Settlement was delayed until that comparatively late date for a variety of reasons, the most obvious of which was the high barrier of the Wasatch Plateau that made access difficult at any time and nearly impossible in the winter. There are only two natural passes over the plateau: one through Salina Canyon, the route of the Old Spanish Trail, Castle Valley's first road; the other over Soldier Summit, route of the later Midland Trail. Both of those passes were used as gateways to settlement in Castle Valley, though the Soldier Summit road did not go through Price Canyon originally but rather eastward through the Park and down Soldier Canyon. In addition to the two natural passes, a summer route was developed down Gordon Creek from the Pleasant Valley coal camps and another across the high ridge from Fairview to Castle Dale. The early settlers used all of these routes. Most of the first settlers on the Price River, the Rhoadeses, Grameses, Powells, and others, came from Utah Valley by way of Soldier Summit, while most of the settlers of present-day Emery C o u n t y came from Sanpete Valley through Salina Canyon or over the top of the mountains. The settlements throughout the valley were nonetheless remarkably similar, even interrelated, in their p o p u l a t i o n , e c o n o m y , a n d p a t t e r n s of c o m m u n i t y organization. The main difference, at first, was that the settlements in the southern part of the valley were larger than those on the Price River and developed more irrigated acreage in the traditional pattern of the nuclear Mormon village with its surrounding fields. Price was also a Mormon village originally, as were Wellington and Spring Glen, though to a lesser extent. But elsewhere in Carbon County ranching

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Freight Road to the Uinta Basin

was the dominant mode of life in the 1870s and 1880s. The Whitmore home ranch lay at the mouth of Whitmore Canyon, while the Miller brothers had their headquarters just below Hiawatha (of course there was no Hiawatha then). Both outfits ranged widely throughout the area, with the Price River as the boundary between them. The Big Spring Ranch of the mysterious Lord Scott Elliott was just a few miles from East Carbon City. Nine Mile was also ranching country, with several small outfits in the early days, many of which were acquired at the turn of the century by Preston Nutter. The Nutter Ranch in Nine Mile and Range Valley is the last survivor of the large-scale ranching era in Castle Valley, except for the M and O Ranch in the extreme southwestern part of the valley in Sevier County. So Carbon County has an important Old West component in its history, a tradition of cowboys and outlaws. The motive for first settling Castle Valley seems to have been simply the availability of land and water at a time when the older settlements of Utah were experiencing some population pressures. However, a key factor in the valley's early g r o w t h was the coming of t h e railroad. T h e construction crews provided a cash market for farm p r o d u c e , a n d t h e p r o s p e c t of b e i n g l o c a t e d on a transcontinental main line brought in numerous promoters with dreams of glory. Perhaps it is a misnomer to call the Rio Grande a transcontinental main line, but it is in keeping with the bold expectations of the 1880s. In any case, the importance of transportation to the building up of this area cannot be denied. The Denver & Rio Grande Western is one of the most interesting railroads in American history. It began as a dream and was constructed largely on dreams. Never adequately capitalized, it struggled for survival throughout most of its history. (For many years people along the route claimed waggishly that the railroad's initials stood for "Dangerous and Rapidly Growing Worse," a reference to the poor maintainance of the roadbed and rolling stock.)

133

Edward A. Geary Gen. William Jackson Palmer, the moving force behind the Rio Grande, first envisioned a north-south main line from Denver to El Paso. Only when the Santa Fe Railroad shut off his expansion to the south did Palmer turn his attention westward toward Utah. Even then it remains uncertain exactly what he intended to do. Railroad expansion plans were closely guarded secrets in those days of unregulated competition. It is clear, however, that while Palmer's Denver & Rio Grande was building westward through Colorado, a close associate named William Bell was organizing, in December 1880, a company called the Sevier Valley Railway with the announced purpose of constructing a line from Ogden south to the Arizona border with another line going eastward through Salina Canyon to Colorado. Within a few months Bell had acquired three small railroads in the Salt Lake area and changed the name of his company to the Denver & Rio Grande Western Railway, revealing its relationship to the Colorado company. In early 1881 construction crews began grading and laying ties in Salina Canyon. A roadbed was also graded for a considerable distance west from Green River, following the general route of the Old Spanish Trail through the middle of Castle Valley. (Sections of the old grade are still visible on the Buckhorn Flat.) This activity led the Salt Lake Herald to speculate: There are now in Salina Pass about 300 men, in grading and tieing the track for the Rio Grande narrow gauge railroad. All this indicates that business is intended. It is not yet known what route the road will take. . . . The lower branch of the Denver and Rio Grande road is now at Ouray, Colorado, some distance from the southeastern border of this territory. If this line is the one which is to be brought to Salt Lake, as is at present contemplated, it will cut across into Utah in a northwesterly direction through the Salina Pass, and will follow down the Sevier River into Sanpete Valley, thence into Pleasant Valley, down the Spanish Fork Canyon through Springville and double the Utah Southern from Provo to this city. This is one route; the

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Freight Road to the Uinta Basin

other branch of the road is now being pushed from Leadville through the Gunnison country in Colorado, and if it be determined to bring this line to Salt Lake, it will probably be extended in the most direct line possible to the Pleasant Valley coal fields, thence down Spanish Fork Canyon to this city as above described. In this event, it is not unlikely that the branch which is destined to go through Salina Pass will turn in a southwesterly direction and run into the southern part of California to the Pacific Ocean.1 Three m o n t h s later the Herald offered these thoughts in the booster rhetoric of the period:

further

If you will notice the direction that the D&RG takes in this territory, you will find it to have been one that has evidenced the best of judgment in the situation. After entering the territory it runs westward and northward, with a slight curve to the south for a distance, until it strikes Salina Canyon. This throws it in a position where it not only taps the Pleasant Valley coal fields on its northward branch, but its branch that runs south and west passes through the Castle Valley coal fields, and is now headed in a direction which points toward the Iron County iron mountains. I am informed, and there seems to be no doubt about it, that the main line of this road is that which turns down the Salina Canyon and goes through the Sevier Valley, to heaven and the company itself know where; while the line coming to this city is the branch.2 There might have been "no doubt" in 1881 that the main line would go through Salina Canyon, but in fact the main line turned north through Price Canyon and the other route was never completed. It does seem likely, however, that the Salina Canyon route was originally intended to be the main line. That is where the first construction activity was directed, and a good deal of money was invested before the route was abandoned. 3 There is no clear indication of why the plans were changed. One reason might have been the acquisition by the Rio Grande Western of the Utah and Pleasant Valley Railroad in 1882. This gave the Rio Grande

135

Edward A. Geary a road up Spanish Fork Canyon as far as Tucker and perhaps made the Soldier Summit route more appealing as a consequence. It is also quite possible that the perennial shortage of capital might have forced the Rio Grande to cut back its plans (assuming that it really did have an eye on southern California) and make Ogden its western terminus. Whatever led the railroad to shift the route to Price Canyon, it was probably the most significant decision ever made in its impact on the development of Castle Valley. Without it there would probably be no Carbon County today. The entire valley would still be Emery County, and the bulk of the population would reside in the central and southern sections along the Old Spanish Trail. Castle Dale would be the bustling cosmopolitan city of the region, and Price would still be a Mormon farming village. Helper would probably have been built somewhere south of the town of Emery. The major coal camps would have been established along the western mountains, from Hiawatha south, and in Salina Canyon. East Carbon City might still be the Whitmore ranch, though it is possible that the coking qualities of Sunnyside coal would have led to construction of a spur north from the main line, in which case the East Carbon story might not be much different from what it is. Though one might speculate on and on about what might have been, the fact remains that the Rio Grande took the Price Canyon route, and the northern and southern parts of Castle Valley were set on different paths of development. (It is interesting to note that after diverging for most of the century the two counties have begun to reconverge in recent years with the industrial development in Emery County. It may well be that historians a hundred years hence will find little difference between them.) The key point is that transportation, not coal, was the first factor in Carbon County's development. Except for the Pleasant Valley district, coal development came because of the railroad. As late as the 1890s it was still not clear that coal would be king, as there was much interest in tar sands, metals, and the development of additional agricultural lands.

136

Freight Road to the Uinta Basin

It was transportation that made Price the dominant town in Castle Valley. Because of the railroad Price became the market for the hay and grain from Emery County farms and the shipping point for livestock. Because of the railroad Price became the wholesale distribution point for Castle Valley, later the main retail center, and then the political, educational, and cultural center that it is today. In the early years Price not only dominated the commerce of Castle Valley but also of the Uinta Basin, and the Basin trade was very important in establishing Price's preeminent position. It is Price's relationship with the Uinta Basin that needs further exploration here. The Uinta Basin, like Castle Valley, is part of the vast eastern Utah region that was shielded from early settlement by the Wasatch Mountains. Unlike Castle Valley, however, it was early set aside as a reservation for the Ute Indians of Utah and Colorado when they were removed from the more sought after areas. The Ashley Valley, where Vernal is located, was settled by Caucasians at about the same time as Castle Valley, but they were extremely isolated from the colonized regions of the territory. In the summer of 1886 Fort Duchesne was established with a contingent of about 300 troops, replacing the smaller Fort Thornburgh. This created a heavy demand for supplies, and after a few trips across the Uinta Mountains to the railroad in Wyoming it became apparent that the lowerelevation route to Castle Valley would be preferable. 4 Lott Powell remembered going out as a young boy with his father, John A. Powell, to help the Fort Duchesne officers locate the route through Nine Mile and Gate Canyon. The soldiers constructed a passable wagon road and built a telegraph line, some remnants of which still exist. The line encountered many problems in the early days. According to Henry Fiack, one of the soldiers in the original company at Fort Duchesne, Shortly after the boys had finished the telegraph line, a bunch of young Ute braves promptly cut it down and

137

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made firewood out of the poles, with the net result that the cavalry herded them to the fort, where they were confined to the guardhouse for a time, on a very wholesome diet of bread and water.5 An army quartermaster was stationed in Price and a warehouse constructed to store goods awaiting shipment, and for almost twenty years steady traffic passed through Price to t h e Basin, traffic t h a t became a two-way proposition with the development of the gilsonite mines in 1889. The road began at the railroad tracks and proceeded up Third East Street in Price to the canal. Then it angled northeast, passing just north of the cemetery and across the foothills to the Edwards ranch at the mouth of Soldier Creek Canyon. From that point it followed the general route of the present road, up through Whitmore Park, down Nine Mile to Gate Canyon, and across the southern part of the Uinta Basin to Myton, a distance of more than a

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Freight Road to the Uinta Basin

Uinta Basin freighters at camp, perhaps near Price ca. 1895. Carbon County Historical Society collections.

hundred miles. The long, difficult journey required six days each w a y for freight w a g o n s in good w e a t h e r and considerably longer when the roads were bad. Much of the trip was through dry country where feed and water for the horses had to be carried. Regular campgrounds were established at intervals of about twenty miles: one at Soldier Station, in Soldier Canyon, which was operated in 1899 by Ira D. Lyman. 6 The freighters often made a second stop in the upper reaches of Nine Mile at one or another ranch (stage stops through the years were at the Don C. Johnson, the Ed Lee, and the Ed Harmon ranches, and Frank Alger had a store at his ranch). There was a regular campground under the cliffs at Brock's ranch at the bottom of Gate Canyon. Signs of campfire smoke on the rocks and initials painted with axle grease can still be seen there. Pete Francis operated a hotel and saloon at Brock's until he was killed in a barroom brawl. His wife then sold out to Preston Nutter in 1902, and Nutter made

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Edward A. Geary

Brock's his ranch headquarters, famous for years for its wandering peacocks. 7 In the Basin travelers used the campground at Half Way Hollow, a dry camp where some enterprising young men hauled water in barrels and charged twenty-five cents per horse for a drink. There was a camp at the Wells, operated for several years by Owen Smith, and another at Bridges (present-day Myton) on the Duchesne River. From there it took one day to reach Fort Duchesne or the Indian agencies at White Rocks and Ouray, and an additional day from Fort Duchesne to Vernal. 8 Most of the outfits on the freight road were either four- or six-horse teams pulling two wagons, capable of carrying as much as three or four tons. 9 Apparently, some freighters attemped to use three- and even four-wagon outfits with as many as eight horses, but the condition of the road made them impractical. The road was poorly maintained and frequently damaged by cattle and sheep drives. Such, at any rate, was the complaint of D. C. Robbins in a letter to the editor of the Eastern Utah Telegraph on November 6, 1891. The following month, the editor made this further comment: We have heard a great deal of complaint in the last week in regards to the wagon road up soldier canyon. They say it is almost impossible for a team to get over it, as the road is a glare of ice, besides great danger of upsetting and killing their teams and smashing their wagons to pieces.10 In addition to the bad roads and the vagaries of the weather, the freighters had to contend with the problems of equipment fcilure and lame or sick horses, and sometimes they were harassed by Indians in the lonely stretches of the Basin. My grandfather told me that a favorite ploy of the Indians was to drive the hobbled horses away from camp in the night and then offer to "find" them for a fee the next morning. Bee; use of these challenges, the freighters usually traveled together in groups of two or three.

140

Freight Road to the Uinta Basin

From the very outset the road from Price to Fort Duchesne was reported to be heavily traveled. 11 But just how much traffic does that mean? The traveler today who makes his way over the long, unpaved road through country that seems very isolated might find it difficult to believe that it was ever heavily traveled, but the indications are that it was for some twenty years the busiest road in eastern Utah. U.S. Army quartermaster records show that one contract in 1887 called for the hauling of two million pounds of supplies at $1.12 per hundred. In 1895, when only 132 troops were stationed at the fort (less than half the number at the beginning), 526,870 pounds of freight were shipped from Price to Fort Duchesne. 1 2 That would have required 65 or 70 trips for a two-wagon outfit and would have represented only a portion of the total freight hauled. The Eastern Utah Telegraph reported in January 1891 that 1,618,407 pounds of freight had been shipped to Price on the railroad in the month of December alone. 13 That would have required some 180 to 200 freight trips if it were all destined for the Basin. Not all of it was so destined, of course, but probably the greater part was, or some 100 trips worth, in a single month. Not all of it would have been hauled in one month, however. The Telegraph cited W. M. Wayman, superintendant of farming at Ouray, as saying, "it will take most of the winter to remove the freight now at Price to the Reservation." 14 In addition to the freight destined for the Indian reservation, supplies came for the Ashley Valley settlements. On the return trip, the wagons carried wool in season and other farm produce and, more important, the constant flow of gilsonite. The gilsonite was shipped to Saint Louis at the time, where it was made into a variety of products including ink, paint, varnish, and insulation for electrical wiring. The Telegraph reported in mid-January 1891 that "Half a million of gilsonite has been shipped from this point in the last eight days." 15 The unit is presumably pounds, which would represent at least 55 double wagon loads. If one takes even 25 round trips per week as an average traffic

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Edward A. Geary

(probably a low figure) and an average of thirteen days for each trip, it would mean fifty men on the road at a time and a contribution to the local economy of between $4,000 and $5,000 per month, a very significant figure given the population of the area and given, too, the fact that during much of the 1890s the nation was in a deep economic depression which made money very hard to come by. Not all of this freight was carried by Carbon County freighters. Many men and teams from Vernal were also active on the freight road, and, in addition, the Indian agencies sent out their own teams and wagons and hauled a portion of their supplies. Even these freighters contributed to the Price economy, however. Since they often had to wait for a day or two in the big campground by the railroad tracks for their wagons to be loaded, they patronized Price stores and saloons. Normally, the individual freighters did not deal directly with either the army or the gilsonite company. Instead, merchants in Price or Vernal contracted for the t r a n s p o r t a t i o n of goods and t h e n employed individual teamsters. The standard contract seems to have been $1.12 per hundred pounds. The freighters were paid $1.00 a hundred, sometimes in cash but more often in merchandise. A freighter with a good outfit and a full load both ways could make as much as $80.00 per week. From that sum would have to come all the expenses of feeding the horses and maintaining the wagons as well as other costs of being on the road. Moreover, the freighter was liable to deductions if there were any loss or damage to the goods on the road. Sometimes the freighters felt that they were shortchanged by the different ways of calculating the load at the two ends of the route. Evelyn Richardson has described the operation from the point of view of the Vernal freighters: Each man was billed with so many packages at Price by Mr. A. J. Lee, who was the agent there for many years. Upon arrival here [that is, in Vernal] the bill was checked by the merchant and freighter and many times the weight of the cartons or weights were deducted

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Freight Road to the Uinta Basin

from the weight of the items, making it necessary for the freighter to stand the loss in the weight of the cartons, etc.16 Arthur E. Gibson, who was the telegraph operator at Price for a large part of the freight road years, summarized the extent of Carbon County involvement in the freight road in this way: Most of our farmers and early settlers were . . . also freighters. Money was not as plentiful in those days as it is today and any farmer who had either two, four or six good horses and a couple of wagons would be ready at most any time to make a trip on the freight road. It was customary for these men to keep in touch with the merchant having the transportation contract, and whenever a load was available, he would be ready to go. Of course, these men would have to run an account at the store and usually the trip on the freight road would be applied on his store account. In other words, it was "calico pay" but very much appreciated nevertheless.17 Gibson listed among the Carbon County freighters Lee Jessen, Don Johnson, Andrew Allen, Joseph Bunce, Joe Burch, Will Curtis, Albert McMullin, Ras Anderson, Peter Anderson, John Pace, Mike Truman, "Nosey Joe" Neilsen, Dave Farnsworth, Joe Mangum, E. Gurr, Frank Lang, and Joe Harrison. There were doubtless others. In addition, several men from Huntington drove on the freight road for at least part of each year, including Edward L. Geary who began in 1888 and continued until at least 1897. If these figures do not seem too impressive, it is important to bear in mind both the typical rates of pay in the 1880s and 1890s and the population of Carbon County at that time. A schoolteacher, for example, in a rural Utah town might earn from $60.00 to $80.00 a month. That was a man's pay; women received less. Moreover, the population of Carbon County was very small before the development of the coal camps. In 1890, when the freight road had been in operation for four years, the census showed only 502

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Edward A. Geary people in Price, compared to 680 in Scofield and 738 in Huntington. In 1891 the federal school funds, which were based on the number of children enrolled in school, were distributed to the various towns of Emery County as follows: Price Scofield Huntington Castle Dale Orangeville Castle Gate Wellington

$722.09 930.30 1,355.58 877.79 708.80 429.71 305.67"

It is clear from these figures that the greater part of the population of Castle Valley was in the towns of present-day Emery County. If one looks at commercial development, however, one finds that Price was even then the trading center of the valley. Price had the first newspaper in the valley, the Eastern Utah Telegraph, established in January 1891, and through its columns, as written by its booster-editor S. K. King, emerges a picture of an active business community. The largest business establishment in 1891 (and for several years thereafter) was the Emery C o u n t y Mercantile Company, with L. M. Olsen, the manager, apparently the leading businessman. (He was also cashier of the Emery County Bank and for several years county superintendent of schools.) This store, according to the Telegraph, did more than $100,000 in business annually, a large amount in those days for a town of 500 people. The Emery County Mercantile was located on First West Street south of the railroad tracks. 19 Just up the street at Main and First West the newly established Price Trading Company had opened its doors, with C. H. Taylor as manager. A third major mercantile e s t a b l i s h m e n t was t h e Gilson A s p h a l t u m Company, a branch of the gilsonite mining company, managed by A. A. Mulholland. T h e s e t h r e e stores dominated the freight contracts. In addition, David Williams

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operated a smaller store doing a "strictly ready pay business," and to complete the business listing there were two saloons, three hotels and one boardinghouse, a meat market operated by J. M. Whitmore, a bank, two attorneys, one physician, a real estate office, two blacksmiths, a shoemaker, a sign painter, and a stage line running to the Uinta Basin and the southern Emery County towns. 2 0 It is an impressive line-up for so small a town and clearly indicates that Price had already crossed the line between a Mormon farming village and a commercial center. More than anything else, the freight business sustained the town. The freight road days seem very remote from the present Carbon County. It is as difficult to discover the Price of 1890 beneath the present sprawling town as it is to imagine the stream of heavy freight wagons making their way down Nine Mile. Yet, there are people alive today who can remember the freight road, and many others whose

Uinta Basin freighters ca. 1895, probably south of Price. Carbon County Historical Society collections.

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p a r e n t s or g r a n d p a r e n t s w e r e involved. S o m e t i m e s a taste of t h e early days of C a r b o n C o u n t y can be found in a diary or personal h i s t o r y . James W. Nixon, for e x a m p l e , came to C a r b o n C o u n t y in 1885 t o join his sisters E m m a M a this and H a n n a W h i t m o r e . H e w e n t to w o r k for t h e W h i t m o r e s at their s u m m e r r a n c h in t h e Park: The Whitmores (George, Tobe, and Sam), kept a number of breeding cattle and horses there to feed. They also had some alfalfa and corn land that they farmed. This first summer they did not have a mowing machine; so all the alfalfa had to be mowed by a scythe—by hand. They left me with a man by the name of George McCall (Dad) who was several years my senior. This was our daily routine: get up in the morning as soon as it was light; go out and feed about forty head of cattle and half as many horses; then come into the log cabin and cook our breakfast. After breakfast we went down into the field and commenced our task of mowing seven acres of alfalfa with our scythes—one following behind the other until about eleven o'clock when we would pick a dozen ears of corn, dig some potatos and return to the cabin where we watered the stock and then cooked our dinner of flapjacks, bacon, beans and vegetables from the field. At one o'clock we were back on the job and continued till the sun was nearly set. After setting the water (irregating) for the night we would return again for the choring and to prepare supper at the cabin. We were frequently visited by other cowboys and one of the owners. On such occasions they used to have us shuck corn either by moon or fire light until nearly midnight, just for a rest and of course we were highly entertained by the songs and jokes that came from cowboy life. One of the interesting things connected with all this is the remuneration I received—one whole dollar a day and my board. I kept this up until about the first of October and the most of my wages were still coming to me as all the clothes that were necessary were overalls jumper hat and shoes. 21 In pay for his s u m m e r ' s w o r k , Nixon took a horse named K e n o . H e r e t u r n e d to Price w h e r e , at t h e age of

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nineteen, he was hired to teach school for $60.00 a month. The next summer he purchased another horse, borrowed his sister's wagon, and began hauling on the freight road. However, his career as a freighter was abruptly terminated by an accident: On one of these trips while going to Soldiers Canyon quite heavily loaded my Keno horse slipped on a rock with his hind foot which threw his stifle out and I had to borrow a horse (old Kate, a yellow mare) to finish the trip, leaving my crippled horse up to the ranch in the care of the Whitmores. The night after I left him there tied in one of their stables, one of their big stallions got loose in the night and going into my horses stall he kicked him to death. This broke up my team and while I always thought that Whitmores should have given me another horse from the hundreds they had on the range to replace the one their horse had killed for me and that I had worked so hard forâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;yet they would not entertain the proposition and I was left with the one horse, which I sold to Charlie Johnson on Price River for one-hundred and fifty dollars.22 J. W. Nixon's life was not permanently blighted by this incident. He later became the leading merchant and LDS bishop in Huntington. Winter was the most treacherous season on the freight road. Although the Soldier Canyon pass lies at a low elevation and was generally open year-round, it was occasionally struck by heavy storms. S. K. King described one such storm in February 1891 in which he was stranded. King, who came from the Midwest to start the newspaper in Price, had made a trip to the Uinta Basin to get acquainted with the country, and when he arrived at Brock's on the return journey he found Nine Mile Canyon impassable. That was on a Tuesday. On Thursday he was able to push as far as the Taylor ranch. On Saturday, Mr. Barlow, the mail carrier, finally came through and reported that the stage had been stranded on the summit since the previous Sunday. A Mr. Lee led a rescue party from Nine Mile to bring out the passengers. King wrote,

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We have often heard of the hardships endured by travelers through snow storms, and, in fact, have had some experience with snow in a prairie country, but not until last week were we brought to fully appreciate the position of one attempting to make a trip over the mountains in the winter season and during one of the heaviest snow-storms that has been known to the people of Utah since its settlement. 23 W i n t e r t e m p e r a t u r e s s o m e t i m e s reached forty degrees below zero o n t h e freight road, and d r i v e r s had to walk the whole distance beside their w a g o n s to keep from freezing. Edward G. G e a r y used to tell of a trip d u r i n g w h i c h h e came close to freezing to d e a t h . H e w a s a y o u n g boy at the time and h a d ridden o n t h e w a g o n all day. By the time c a m p was m a d e a t n i g h t h e h a d r e a c h e d a d a n g e r o u s s t a g e of h y p o t h e r m i a w i t h o u t realizing it. A m a n in t h e c a m p saw him beginning to d r o w s e off by the fire and recognized w h a t w a s h a p p e n i n g . With a w h i p h e forced him t o his feet and compelled him t o r u n until his body h e a t w a s restored. Y o u n g Ed d r o v e t h e freight road w i t h his father t h r o u g h o u t his b o y h o o d . In J u n e 1 8 9 7 , w h e n h e w a s n i n e t e e n , t h e y r e t u r n e d to Price from a trip to t h e Basin to discover t h a t t h e r e w a s only o n e load ready t o go to the Indian agency at O u r a y . H e r e is his account of t h a t eventful trip, one of t h e r a r e j o u r n e y s taken alone: Father told him [C. H. Taylor, the freight contractor] that he would load it and let Eddie take it out. This was my first trip alone on the freight road. I had a fourhorse team heavily loaded and a trip of two weeks ahead of me. I became homesick the first day out from Price. The second night from Price I camped down nine-mile canyon. I u n h a r n e s s e d my f o u r - h o r s e team and watered and grained them and while they were eating, 1 gathered wood and made a fire. After the horses had eaten their grain, I took them across the creek and up on the mountainside where there was good grazing. I then returned to my camp, and it was just getting dark. I prepared my supper and after eating, made my bed on the ground and retired.

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Soon after retiring, I heard somebody saying, "Who is there?" "Who is there?""Who is there?" I layed there all night hearing the same words, "Who is there?" I was certainly homesick! I became frightened and got up and moved my bed on top of the load on my trail wagon, and no sooner had I got into bed than I again heard somebody saying, "Who is t h e r e ? " "Who is there?" I crawled out from under my quilts as soon as it was daylight, but was unable to find anybody around my camp. I did not learn for days after this horrible night that it was nobody but an old hoot-owl that had frightened me. I was driving along the road between Duchesne River and Dry Gulch on the fifth day of my trip when a large, ugly Indian rode on his horse alongside me and asked, "Where your camp?" I told him, "I no camp. I keep going." He kept alongside me for hours. Finally I came to Dry Gulch where there was water and camped for noon. I prepared dinner and, of course, the old Indian got off his horse and fed him some of my hay and then sat down by the side of my grub box and helped himself to dinner. When he was about through his meal he took a can of canned grapes from the grub box and demanded that I open it; when I did, he ate about t h r e e - f o u r t h s of the grapes and I ate the remainder of the can. He finally got filled up and got on his horse and rode away down the road. About an hour later 1 resumed my journey down the road and had gone about three miles when 1 noticed a horse with a saddle on standing by the side of the road. When I arrived at the spot, I found it to be the horse and saddle of the big Indian who had eaten dinner with me and not far away lay the Indian. Was he sick! Of course I could do nothing for him, so I journeyed on my way. I had not traveled very far until I began to get sick and was sick all a f t e r n o o n . W h e n I c a m p e d a t e v e n i n g a n d investigated, I came to the conclusion that the grapes the Indian and I had eaten had given us both a poison. I do not know what became of the bully Indian. 24 W h e n Ed h a d d e l i v e r e d his load a t O u r a y , M a c k Wilson, t h e s t o r e k e e p e r t h e r e , offered him double t h e usual r a t e if h e w o u l d h a u l a w a g o n load of wool to Price. H e p u t

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This George Edward Anderson photograph shows the loading of wool at Price in 1901. From the Gary B. Peterson collection, Photogeographics.

the $40.00 in gold in a drawstring buckskin bag in his pocket. Then he proceeded to the Strip to load his other wagon with gilsonite. On the way, a group of Indians who had seen the money change hands followed him, coming to his camp that night and eating, and finally asking about the money. O n the pretext of feeding his horses, Ed went to the wagon and dropped the purse down between the wool sacks. Then he turned his pockets inside out to persuade the Indians that he had no money with him. After they rode away he was reluctant to camp for the night, so he harnessed up his team and went on to Fort Duchesne in the dark. When he got back to Price, he retrieved the money from under the wool sacks and deposited it with L. M. Olsen. Later that summer he used the money to go to Salt Lake City to attend the Pioneer Jubilee, celebrating fifty years of Mormon settlement. The beginning of the end for the freight road came in 1905 when a railroad spur was built from Mack, Colorado, to Dragon, Utah, to haul the gilsonite from the Uinta Basin.

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Freight Road to the Uinta Basin

That was perhaps the busiest single year on the Nine Mile road, h o w e v e r , as t h e Uinta Basin was opened for settlement and families were streaming in to occupy their new land, with all their belongings piled on their wagons. Frequently they got stranded on the rough, unfamiliar road, and Preston Nutter had to send out his big red mules to help them out. 25 Some freight was carried over the Nine Mile road as late as 1918, but the traffic between Carbon County and the Uinta Basin declined substantially as a result of the railroad spur and the improved road from Heber City to the Basin. What traffic remained tended to shift to the shorter Indian Canyon route, and the mail for the Uinta Basin continued to be carried that way until the late 1930s, the last remnant of the old traffic. By the time the freight road era ended, the coal industry was well established in Carbon County and had become the chief pillar of its economic development. However, the freight road had at least one lasting effect in that it provided Price w i t h t h e s t r o n g commercial foundation that enabled it to retain its position as the dominant town of the county in the face of challenges by, first, Scofield and, later, Helper. Helper was in some ways better situated than Price. It was the railroad operations center and also more centrally located in relation to the coal camps in the arc from Kenilworth to Gordon Creek. Price was too far from the mines, in the days before widespread automobile ownership, to be an ideal market town. But it remained the chief market t o w n nonetheless, largely because of the solid core of business establishments and community builders that had got their real foothold from the freight road. NOTES Dr Geary is associate professor of English at Brigham Young University. iSa/f Lake Herald, March 27, 1881. zibid., June 5, 1881. . . 3 Denver & Rio Grande general manager David C. Dodge complained in 1882 that $200,000 had been wasted in construction on the Salt Lake division because work had been undertaken without a thorough study of the routes. See

15?

Edward A. Geary Robert G. Athearn, Rebel of the Rockies: A History of the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1962), pp. 109, 114-18. 4 I take the date of the establishment of Fort Duchesne from Thomas G. Alexander and Leonard J. Arrington, "The Utah Military Frontier, 1872-1912: Forts Cameron, Thornburgh, and Duchesne," Utah Historical Quartelry 32 (1964): 344. Henry Fiack dates the establishment a year later in "Fort Duchesne's Beginnings," Utah Historical Quarterly 2 (1929): 31-32. 5 Fiack, "Fort Duchesne's Beginnings," p. 32. 6 Rell G. Francis, The Utah Photographs of George Edward Anderson (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1979), p. 134. 'Virginia N. Price and John T. Darby, "Preston Nutter: Utah Cattleman, 1886-1936, Utah Historical Quarterly 32 (1964): 246. s Evelyn Richardson, "Lifeline of the Uintah Basin" in Builders of Uintah (Vernal: Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1947), pp. 262-63. 'Richardson, "Lifeline," p. 260. Êastern Utah Telegraph, December 11, 1891. "Alexander and Arrington, "Utah Military Frontier," p. 348. izlbid. Êastern Utah Telegraph, January 15, 1891. '"Ibid. 15 Ibidâ&#x20AC;&#x17E; January 22, 1891. 16 Richardson, "Lifeline," p. 260. 17 Arthur E. Gibson, "Industries, Other than Coal, Which Were Important in the Development of Carbon County" in Centennial Echoes from Carbon County ([Price?]: Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1948), p. 45. ls Eastern Utah Telegraph, January 22, 1891. Scofield was sometimes spelled Schofield in early records. 19 Gibson, "Industries," pp. 45-46. Êastern Utah Telegraph, March 19, 26, 1891. 21 James William Nixon, Autobiography (Washington, D.C.: Author, 1937), p. 24. "Ibid., pp. 25-26. "Eastern Utah Telegraph, March 5, 1891. "Edward G. Geary, "Personal History," 1957, manuscript in the possession of the author, pp. 13-14. "Price and Darby, "Preston Nutter," p. 248.

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Helper â&#x20AC;&#x201D; the Making of a Gentile Town in Zion Philip F. Notarianni

The historical development and social character of Helper, Utah, distinguishes the town from other Utah communities. Its history is linked to the Carbon County experience, with immigration and labor forming vital elements of the area's social fabric. C a r b o n C o u n t y , and especially Helper, produces a sense of place with visual and conceptual images unique in Utah, clearly illustrating a difference in the state's regions. A good example of this awareness of difference appears in the story of an Italian immigrant who journeyed Above: This archway over the south end of Helper's Main Street was a landmark in the 1930s. USHS collections.

Philip F. Notarianni

from Helper in the 1930s to work on the highway through Spanish Fork Canyon. He quickly became homesick and after two weeks reported to the paymaster and, demanding his pay, said, "Son of a Beech! I no licka thesea Uniteda States. I wanna go back to Helper." The story reflects an awareness of regional distinction at the folk level 1 â&#x20AC;&#x201D;one of a Gentile town. Helper's history, evident in its remaining physical environment, allows the present-day observer to relate past to present through the town's narrow streets, small blocks, large commercial district, and residential structures. The vast coal deposits of Utah lie in the southeastern portion of the state, largely concentrated in Carbon County. For the most part the eastern rim of the Great Basin is one extensive bed containing thousands of square miles of coal. Within this region, with its wealth of coal, juniper, sagebrush, and scenic sandstone lies the town of Helper, given life by the Rio Grande Western Railway Company. Helper's history is tied to that of the mining region in which it is located, and that history initially entailed both the search for coal and the desire to break the monopoly of the Union Pacific Railroad. 2 In the early 1880s the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad 3 was encouraged to push into Salt Lake City from Denver, Colorado, but the existence of vast deposits of coal along its proposed route sealed the company's interest in Castle Valley. In October 1881 Ellis Clark, Jr., wrote to W. J. Palmer of the RGW while surveying Price Canyon, stating that None of the coal beds were large, but their value to this company depends upon their close location to the line of the railroad at a point (the heavy Price River Grade) where extra locomotive power will be required.4 Recognizing both the coal deposits and the need for a helper station, Clark advised t h e i m m e d i a t e p u r c h a s e and patenting of the coal property at a price of $4,000. 5 By midDecember D. C. Dodge, general manager of the D&RG, had

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A Gentile Town in Z ion written to R. F. Weitbrec, manager of construction, about the location of stations on the Utah line. Dodge was concerned about "outside parties" building towns, stating that "in these matters, I don't believe they are entitled to all the cream." 6 Teancum Pratt with his plural wives, Annie and Sarah, had journeyed into the area in 1880-81. Pratt's journal provides unique insights into this early phase of Helper's development: So hearing of Castle Valley, I struck out and came to Price River on the 24th of July, 1880, coming down Gordon Creek from Pleasant Valley and locating at the mouth of Gordon Creek. But the neighbors were hunters, trappers, and bachelors, and soreheads and did not welcome any settlers, so I had a very tough time of it and had to leave that location and moved up to what is now Helper, at that time a lovely wilderness, and commenced anew in 1881. Then came the Rio Grande Railroad. Money was plentiful, but I could never get ahead. The Price River was unfortunate in getting its first settlers. They were not the honest kind who will pull together and sacrifice for each other.7 Pratt owned most of the land in the vicinity of presentday Helper and initially surveyed the town. Titles to Helper townsite properties generally end in Pratt's survey. His early years were raw and rugged, and he told of the need to travel to Price, some seven miles south, for supplies. We have gone to Price Trading Co., for our family supplies this winter [1894] and yet have not been comfortably clad, sheltered, and fed and I am mortgaging Helper lots to pay the bills. I have also gone into the fight somewhat to get the county seat, of a proposed new county, at Helper.8 Mining was also pursued "with our main purpose to get coal for our own fires, but to our surprise the Castle Gate mine had never tried to interrupt our trade at Helper,

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and we have done very well at selling coal." 9 With this success Pratt ventured into the market of supplying the railroad. In the spring of 1898, the Railroad Company commenced building homes at Helper and being sole owner of the mine, I went and asked Mr. Welby [superintendent] if I could supply the company houses. He replied, 'Thats all right, go ahead.' So I had a great run of coal business. . . .10 Pratt indeed contributed to Helper's early years. The railroad had purchased a right of way from him for the road in 1883. Some sources indicate that the station was known as Pratt's Siding, with railroad schedules listing the stations along the main line as Price, Spring Creek, Castle Quarry, and Castle Gate. 11

The Helper railyards ca. 1886. USHS collections.

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The railroad opened up the coal lands of Carbon County, with Helper providing the center necessary for both industries. The first railroad structures at Helper were small frame buildings near the tracks, a bunkhouse, and a twenty-foot narrow-gauge boxcar for a passenger station. 12 By 1887 the D&RG had built some twenty-seven frame residences, with more later in the year. This construction was done in anticipation of making the town a freight terminal upon changing the line from narrow to standard gauge, which began in 1889. 13 Here "helper" trains or locomotives, as predicted, would stand in readiness to aid through trains up the steep grade to Soldier Summit; thus, the station's name became Helper. In 1891 t h e track s u b s t i t u t i o n was completed, prompting the Salt Lake Tribune to proclaim in 1892 that "This road has during the past year increased, multiplied and waxed fat." 1 4 T h e newspaper continued to announce progress at the "new town of Helper," started in the spring of the year, noting, "At that point are now a fifteen-stall roundhouse, a n e w depot, with reading-room for the employees, and minor buildings." 1 5 In 1892 the town became the division point for the road; that is, Helper served as the union station of the eastern and western divisions, the terminals being Ogden, Utah, and Grand Junction, Colorado. With this distinction came a new hotel, depot, and other buildings, making the railroad's capital outlay for Helper in 1892 a total of $60,000. 16 Helper's growth proceeded in a slow but deliberate fashion, in contrast to booming metal mining towns. The first amenities offered the few settlers and numerous railroad workers included three saloons, one grocery store, and one clothing establishment. 17 A school had been part of the offering in 1891. 1 8 A comparison of the tonnages of commodities forwarded from and received at Helper in the formative years allows for some insight into growth. In 1891 a total of 765 tons of goods in four different categories were forwarded from Helper, while 123 tons in eight categories were received. 19 Figures for 1892 show that only

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581 tons of commodities were forwarded from Helper, but 281 tons of goods in twelve categories were received in the town. 20 The larger variety of goods received in 1892 reflects the building then occurring as well as the increase in population. By 1895 the D&RG buildings and shops at Helper were lighted by electricity, and two reservoirs for water had been constructed with a capacity of 6,000,000 gallons. 21 Ethnic diversity would become the chief characteristic of Helper. In 1894 the D&RG passenger department established an i m m i g r a t i o n b u r e a u to advertise the resources of Utah Territory. 22 Such a move coincided with the beginning influx of n u m e r o u s i m m i g r a n t s from southern and eastern Europe. In reporting this development the Salt Lake Tribune asserted that "Many colonists have been attracted to the Territory t h r o u g h the work of this bureau." 23 That Helper was on the railroad's main line into the coal mining region would prove significant. The 1900 census enumerated 385 persons in Helper precinct. At that time some sixteen nationalities were represented, with 44 Italians the largest number of southern Europeans. Chinese laborers were also numbered among Helper's residents. 24 In 1903-4 the United Mine Workers of America launched a strike in Carbon County against the Utah Fuel Company, a subsidiary of the D&RG. 25 Many Italians, Finns, and Austrians (South Slavs) joined in the strike leveled a g a i n s t m a n a g e m e n t ' s a b u s e s , s u c h as the misweighing of coal, the use of company scrip, and forced patronage of the company store. The affair was bitter and led to the calling out of the Utah National Guard by Gov. Heber M. Wells. The mining camps of Castle Gate, Scofield, Winter Quarters, and Sunnyside became embroiled in the struggle. Italians banded together and, being among the many strikers who were evicted from coal company property and housing, congregated at the residence of Paul Pessetto, known as the Half Way House, being halfway between Castle Gate and Helper. The group gathered in a tent colony near the stone house where, in a celebrated

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incident involving the Socialist labor leader Mother Mary Jones, they were the victims of a mass arrest by a posse who descended upon the tents in the early morning of April 24, 1904, arresting some 120 Italians. 26 The strike effort withered in early 1905, but its consequence is important here in explaining the dispersion of the Italians, some of whom returned to Italy on reduced fares offered by the D&RG. Others commenced to farm along the Price River, and still others journeyed to Helper where they entered into business. The influx of the blacklisted strikers into Helper accelerated its growth, with the newly established farms producing needed agricultural products. T h u s , the strike's outcome offered a social mobility opportunity to the Italians and others that coal mining alone would have denied. Greek and Japanese immigrants were brought in to break the strike, injecting new ethnic groups into the scene. 27 Helper, with Price, was fast becoming the center of the

Helper Main Street ca. 1910 with the Baptiste Flaim saloon on the left. USHS collections.

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Carbon County coal fields, providing many necessary services to the outlying camps. A 1903-4 business directory listed 16 separate businesses in Helper, and by 1912-13 the number had grown to 29, amid a total population of about 850. In 1914-15 there were 71 business entries in the directory, with 84 in 1918-19, and 157 in the 1924-25 publication. 28 The population had grown to 1,100 by 191415 and, according to the directories, stabilized through the 1920s. Although many of Helper's business enterprises were associated with the needs of specific ethnic groups, they nevertheless illustrate the business opportunies in Helper that enabled immigrants to break the ranks of labor. Italian and Chinese-owned businesses were joined in the 1910s and 1920s by Slavic, Greek, and Japanese establishments. Specialty shops, cafes, coffeehouses, saloons, theaters, general mercantiles, and sundry service-oriented businesses

Interior of the Flaim saloon ca. 1910. Carbon County Historical Society collections.

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Town

in Z wn

The Lowenstein Mercantile Company advertised as dealers in dry goods, ladies' and gents' furnishings, boots, shoes, and groceries. Carbon County Historical Society collections.

formed Helper's commercial district. Some ventures, such as the Mutual Mercantile Company, represented the joint efforts of several ethnic groups. 2 9 In 1907 Helper townsite was regularly organized and incorporated with a town board and president serving the community. 3 0 This sparked the civic consciousness of Helper's residents. A twenty-five-foot strip along Main Street was secured; and soon fences along the way were dismantled and telephone poles removed from the street's center, and Main was widened to fifty feet. Also at that time new residential spaces were laid out, and individuals enhanced their properties by planting lawns and fruit trees. 31 The opening of nearby mines assured Helper's growth in the second decade of the century. In 1908 the Kenilworth

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mine was opened, followed in 1910 by the Spring Canyon a r e a w e s t of H e l p e r . H i a w a t h a , R a i n e s , S t o r r s , Standardville, and other mines were also started. 32 Helper became the center for these camps, providing needed i n s t i t u t i o n s and social services as well as business enterprises. In 1899 the D&RG had erected the Railroad Chapel, a place of worship for all religious denominations. It also served as a school and general m e e t i n g place. Nondenominational services as well as Catholic masses were held in this building. The railroad YMCA was built in 1906, functioning as quarters for division officers and as a community center. 33 Bishop Lawrence Scanlan had created facilities for Catholic worship in 1897 in Castle Gate, a place he had visited as early as the 1880s. During the early 1900s he sent priests to minister to the coal camps, and in the century's second decade the Reverend Anthony Pettillo arrived in Helper, and Saint Anthony's Church was erected in 1914. Father Alfredo F. Giovannoni, who arrived in 1917, became a m a j o r f o r c e in t h e H e l p e r a n d P r i c e C a t h o l i c communities. 34 Mormons utilized the Railroad Chapel. In 1916 The Assumption Greek Orthodox Church was erected in Price. 35 An Episcopal social-evangelical ministry was established in Helper in the 1920s, using the thenabandoned YMCA building. 36 A schoolhouse was built in 1 8 9 1 , with Helper organized into School District Number Four three years later. In 1900 Helper listed a school population of sixty children. 37 The D&RG Railroad Chapel served some school needs with its classrooms in the basement, but in 1909 the Helper Central School was built. 38 High school facilities were available in nearby Price. The basement of Harry Edna's Variety Store served as a school during the summer for Japanese children whose fathers labored in Helper or the surrounding coal camps. 39 Like other mining areas, Helper proved susceptible to fire. The most devastating occurred in May 1919 when losses were estimated at $65,000, with at least one source

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A Gentile Town in Zion placing the damage at $125,000. 40 Peter Bosone, Antone Labori, Mike Bergera, and Floyd Bertolina all lost buildings and property. Rumors flourished that the Black Hand, a g r o u p of s o u t h e r n I t a l i a n s e x t o r t i n g m o n e y from n o r t h e r n e r s , had sent threatening communications to Bosone and Bergera, but no definite proof was found. 41 From such conflagrations, primarily the 1919 mishap, Helper's commercial district had to be rebuilt. The business center had consisted of many small wood frame buildings, but with the arrival of Italian stonemasons the hand-hewn native stone structures still evident in the area became more prominent. 4 2 Helper's social life reflected its ethnic diversity. Italians maintained their Stella DAmerica, "Star of America," lodge. Slovenians belonged to the Slovenska Narodna Podporna Jednota, "Slovene National Benefit Society," which had lodges in Carbon County. Two local Croatian lodges also functioned in the county. Greeks joined in Pan Hellenic Unions and socialized in the Greek coffeehouses that dotted the Helper commercial district. The Greek American Progressive Association (GAPA), organized to preserve the Greek language and traditions, marched in Helper parades during the 1930s. 43 Other social groups in the area included the H e l p e r K n i g h t s of P h y t h i a s Lodge and n u m e r o u s o r g a n i z a t i o n s in Price: M a s o n s , Elks, Moose, Lions, Rotarians, Kiwanians, the American Legion, and the Knights of Columbus. The distinctive customs and life-styles of the various ethnic groups continued, but they were soon modified by interaction with others in the unique Helper environment. Celebrations such as baptisms and weddings fostered group solidarity. Old-country superstitions were carried to Helper as part of the immigrants' cultural baggage. Evening walks and promenades also became a part of Helper's social scene, reminiscent of European village life. The suit and tie became a sign of status and respect for men of European peasant backgrounds. Greeks journeyed to the Helper YMCA on Sundays to shower prior to donning suits for a visit to the

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coffeehouse. Ethnic newspapers were read, languages maintained, and, to some degree, ethnic rivalries were s u s t a i n e d . But w i t h t i m e a n d p a s s i n g g e n e r a t i o n s accommodation was achieved, and the immigrants adjusted and contributed to the existing social order. 44 Helper's past and present include many folk elements. For example, traditional food preparation and cooking skills among the various g r o u p s are still practiced. T h e outbuildings that were vital to the maintenance of those skills also remain: chicken coops, rabbit hutches, coal and wood shacks, smokehouses, and outdoor ovens used for baking bread add to the ethnic landscape created in Helper. 45 Tales, such as those told of the "Claw," reflect some of the underlying social structure of Helper and show a certain tolerance. The "Claw," a South Slav, was one of those men who ventured into the coal fields as gamblers or "purveyors of other vices." He received his nickname because only the thumb and index finger were present on his right hand. The South Slavs "generally did not appreciate the presence of such renegades in their saloons but they [including the "Claw"] were tolerated." 46 The existence of some twenty-six nationalities in Helper offers proof of the workability of ethnic diversity. Names such as Barboglio, Moss, Slopansky, Borkenhagen, Evans, Bertolina, Ballinger, Porter, Hyde, Downey, Mullins, Diamenti, and Jouflas, to mention a few of Helper's mayors, have become s y n o n y m o u s with town g o v e r n m e n t . Although ethnic and religious rivalry marked a prominent portion of Helper's historical d e v e l o p m e n t , c u r r e n t r e s i d e n t s of t h e a r e a h a v e f o r m e d an i d e n t i t y as Carbonitesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;distinguishing themselves from occupants of other Utah counties. Newspaper reports of the 1910 decade demonstrate the cosmopolitan character of Helper. For example, in January 1910 the new Helper town board consisted of Ben Stein, president, with Joseph Barboglio, Dominic Bergera, Baptiste Flaim, and W. T. Hamilton as trustees. Carlo Dalpiaz acted as town marshal, R. B. Morris as town clerk,

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A Gentile Town in

.ton

Helper State Bank, started by Joe Barboglio, helped finance many immigrant business ventures. The Tokyo Restaurant, right, was run by Y. Shimamoto.

and Ben F. Moss as treasurer. This town board's first act was to repeal an ordinance enacted by the previous board, thereby reducing the liquor licenses from $2,500 to $600 per year. 47 Earlier, in 1909, the Carbon County News had run the headline "No More Boozing on Sunday," quipping that "Probably the town most affected in the county is Helper." 48 In June 1911 Carbon County voted "wet" in an election with 152 votes in Helper cast for the "wets" and only 33 in favor of a "dry" county. 49 Such feelings would carry over into the Prohibition years of the 1920s. Helper assumed a unique role in the county's labor union activity. Some disputes involved the railroad; for example, the 1908-9 strike of shopmen affected some three hundred workers. 5 0 However, most of the excitement came from the struggles between coal miners and coal operators. Since the mines were located outside of Helper proper the town functioned as a city of refuge where strikers and u n i o n o r g a n i z e r s , as well as n a t i o n a l g u a r d s m e n , c o n g r e g a t e d d u r i n g t h e t e n s i o n - r i d d l e d times. Frank Bonacci, an avid UMWA organizer, operated in Helper

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frequently during his 1917 to 1935 bout to gain recognition for the union. 51 Helper's growth continued, with the town becoming a city of the third class in 1919. Although by 1920 the D&RG had switched its division point to Soldier Summit, the 1920s in Helper nevertheless brought an unusual prosperity. This derived primarily from a massive building p r o g r a m undertaken by Helper Securities, a multiethnic corporation, in 1927 when other towns had entered a stagnant period. 52 This activity especially injected life into the commercial district and reflected an optimism in the future. The twenties was a period of strife and prosperity. The 1922 strike in Carbon County, led by Greek miners, created tensions in Helper, as did the Ku Klux Klan activity of middecade. In Helper, Klansmen burned crosses while Catholics countered with burning circles, signifying the nothingness of the Klan. 53 Finally, the lynching of a black man, Robert Marshall, in Price dampened for a time the aspirations of the county's ethnic community. However, threats to ethnic groups often resulted in the groups' banding together, as was the case during the Klan activity in Carbon County. As unsettled as the twenties appeared at first, by the later years of the decade the relative stability of coal as a necessity rather than a luxury or speculative product began to exert its effect in Helper. That, plus the diversity of Helper's economy, prompted the 1927-28 Utah State Gazetteer to state: Within a radius of 7 miles there are 14 operating Mines where Bituminous Coal of the best grade is mined. The shipments of coal from this town are between eight and nine thousand cars per month. Poultry raising, Dairy Products, Fruits and Vegetables are among the Chief industries of this Vicinity. Helper is Considered the "hub" of Carbon County being the Main distribution center of this county and the Great Uinta basin.54 As if to seal this optimistic summary, Helper's city hall was constructed in 1927 from a design by prominent Salt Lake

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Helper Main Street in the 1920s, looking north. USHS collections.

City architect Walter E. Ware in the late Classical Revival style. 55 Although the Great Depression affected the entire country, Helper's place as a railroad center provided some stability in those tenuous times. Building continued with the Civic Auditorium, a center for activity, constructed in 1936 in the International style by Scott and Welch of Salt Lake City. 56 Population growth spurred school authorities to erect the Helper Junior High School in 1936. 57 Robert G. Athearn, historian of the D&RG, maintains that during the 1930s and 1940s t h e p r o d u c t i o n of coal as well as metalliferous ores in Colorado and Utah steadily declined. However, with regard to the D&RG, new growth came from the development of "bridge traffic," the acquisition of trade from o t h e r roads that wanted transcontinental

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Philip F. Notarianni connections. 58 Thus, Helper as a point on the main line of a major railway retained some economic regularity lost to many Utah areas during the depression years. Helper in its historical development served as an i m p o r t a n t focal point for arriving i m m i g r a n t s , for unionization of miners, and for the cultural-economic activities of the area. During the present energy demands, Helper's history and physical environment add a vital sense of the past and continuity with the future to a rapidly changing Carbon County. NOTES Dr. Notarianni is a preservation historian at the Utah State Historical Society. 1

Charles S. Peterson, Changing Times: A View From Cache Valley, 1890-1915, 60th Faculty Honor Lecture, Utah State University, November 1979, p. 2. 2 A detailed analysis of the early period in Utah's coal history can be found in Allan Kent Powell, "A History of Labor Union Activity in the Eastern Utah Coal Fields, 1900-1934" (Ph.D. diss., University of Utah, 1976), pp. 1-18. For the development of the Union Pacific coal interests see Union Pacific Company History of the Union Pacific Coal Mines, 1863-1940 (Omaha: Colonial Press, 1940). 3 As stated on the D&RG Archives inventory at the Colorado Historical Society, "The Denver & Rio Grande Western, incorporated in July of 1881, was the original Palmer road in Utah designed as a westward extension of the Denver & Rio Grande. When it defaulted on interest owed the D&RG, it was put in the hands of a Receiver and run that way from 1882 until 1884 when it was returned to its own management. In June of 1889 the D&RGW consolidated with the State Line & Denver and incorporated as the Rio Grande Western. The RGW was bought by the D&RG in 1902. After a (1921) reorganization the railroad was again called the Denver & Rio Grande Western." "Ellis Clark, Jr., to W. J. Palmer, October 11, 1881, Box 51, Folder 865 Denver & Rio Grande Archives, Colorado Historical Society, Denver. Hereafter cited as D&RG Archives. sibid. <-D. C. Dodge to R. F. Weitbrec, December 12, 1881, Box 4, Folder 4291, D&RG Archives. 7 Edna Romano, ed., "Teancum Pratt, Founder of Helper," Utah Historical Quarterly 48 (1980):331. 'Ibid. 'Ibid. >°Ibid. "Rio Grande Western Railway, "List of Officers, Stations, Agents, Etc.," January 1, 1890, Box 8, Folder 1666, D&RG Archives. i2"Helper, in the Heart of Utah's Great Coal Fields," The D. & R. G. W. Magazine, May 1926, p. 9. "Ibid. li Salt Lake Tribune, January 1, 1892. "Ibid. 16 Ibid.; Salt Lake Tribune, January 1, 1893. Figures from the railroad's annual report place building expenditures as follows: new depot—$4,144.96; hotel for trainmen—$3,856.82; new coal chute—$7,226.10; roundhouse—$25,619.15; and sand, oil house, etc.—$520.66. See "Annual Report of the RGW Railway Company

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to the Stockholders for the Year Ending June 30, 1892," p. 28, Box 43, D&RG Archives. 17 Stenhouse & Company, Utah Gazetteer. 1892-93 (Salt Lake City, 1892). " S t e v e Nick Barovatz, " T h e Settlement of Carbon County and the Development of Schools" (M.S. thesis, University of Utah, 1953), p. 27. 19 Salt Lake Tribune, January 1, 1892. 20 Salt Lake Tribune, January 1, 1893. 21 Salt Lake Tribune, January 1, 1895. "Ibid. "Ibid. 24 U.S., Department of the Interior, Twelfth Census of the United States, microfilm copy of the manuscript census for Helper Precinct, Carbon County. " F o r a detailed account of the 1903-4 strike see Powell, "Eastern Utah Coal Fields," pp. 82-149; and Allan Kent Powell, "The 'Foreign Element' and the 1903-4 Carbon County Coal Miners' Strike," Utah Historical Quarterly 43 (1975); 125-54. See also Philip F. Notarianni, "Italian Involvement in the 1903-4 Coal Miners' Strike in Southern Colorado and Utah," paper presented at the American Italian Historical Association meeting, Cleveland, Ohio, October 1978, in author's possession. 26 An interesting personal account of the incident can be found in "Mother" Mary Jones, Autobiography of Mother fones, ed. Mary Field Parton (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr, 1925), pp. 105-6. 27 Helen Z. Papanikolas, Toil and Rage in a New Land: The Greek Immigrants in Utah, 2d ed. rev., p. 109, reprinted from Utah Historical Quarterly 38 (1970). 2 ÂťR. L. Polk & Co., Utah State Gazetteer and Business Directory, 1903-4 (Salt Lake City: R. L. Polk & Co., 1903), p. 148 (hereafter Polk directories will be cited as Polk, Utah Gazetteer, with the date and page number), Polk, Utah Gazetteer, 1912-13, pp. 103-4; Polk, Utah Gazetteer, 1914-15, p. 85; Polk, Utah Gazetteer, 1918-19, pp. 75-76; Polk, Utah Gazetteer, 1920-21, pp. 74-75. "Joseph Stipanovich, The South Slavs in Utah: A Social History (San Francisco: R and E Research Associates, 1975), p. 65. This establishment was started by J. P. Rolando, John Skerl, and A. Dolinsky in 1924. 30 Thursey Jessen Reynolds, comp., Centennial Echoes from Carbon County ([Price?] (Daughters of Utah Pioneers of Carbon County, 1948), p. 176; D.&R.G.W. Magazine, p. 10. "D.&R.G.W. Magazine, p. 10. "Ibid. "Reynolds, Centennial Echoes, p. 174. 34 Louis J. Fries, One Hundred and Fifty Years of Catholicity in Utah (Salt Lake City: Intermountain Catholic Press, 1926), p. 104: Stanley V. Litizzette, "A Catholic History of North Carbon County, Utah," St. Anthony's Catholic Church, Helper, Utah, Twenty-fifth Anniversary, 1945-1970 (Price: Peczuh Printing Co., 1974), pp. 3-6; Intermountain Catholic Register, October 22, 1954. "Papanikolas, Toil and Rage, p. 146. " A r t h u r W. Moulton, "Utah Coal Region Challenges Church," (n.d.), Pamphlet No. 12630, Utah State Historical Society, p. 30. 37 State of Utah, Superintendent of Public Instruction, Third Report of the Superintendent of Public Instruction for the Biennial Period Ending June 30, 1900 (Salt Lake City, 1901), p. 340. "Barovatz, "The Settlement of Carbon County," pp. 27-28. " " H e l p e r Commercial District National Register of Historic Places Inventory Form," Utah State Historical Society, 1978. 4o5n/f lay Tribune, May 20, 1919, p. 1 ($65,000); News Advocate (Price), May 22, 1919. "The News Advocate, May 22, 1919, p. 1. ""Helper Commercial District." "Philip F. Notarianni, "Utah's Ellis Island: The Difficult 'Americanization' of Carbon County," Utah Historical Quarterly 47 (1979): 178-93; Papanikolas, Toil and Rage, pp. 186, 192. " A general discussion of this process among various ethnic groups can be found in Helen Z. Papanikolas, ed., The Peoples of Utah (Salt Lake Citj: Utah State Historical Society, 1976). See also Notarianni, "Utah's Ellis Island,' pp. 183-93.

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45 Papanikolas, 46

Toil and Rage, p. 145. Stipanovich, South Slavs, p. 63. "Eastern Utah Advocate (Price), January 6, 1910. ^Carbon County News, April 12, 1909. "Eastern Utah Advocate, June 29, 1911. "Eastern Utah Advocate, January 14, 1909. 51 See Philip F. Notarianni, "Smoldering Unionism: The Italian Labor Organizer in Carbon County, Utah," seminar paper for F. A. Coombs, University of Utah, May 1979, in author's possession; and Helen Z. Papanikolas, "Unionism, Communism, and the Great Depression: The Carbon County Coal Strike of 1933," Utah Historical Quarterly 41 (1973): 267. 52 See the Helper Times, February 24, 1927; March 17, 1927; and August 25, 1927. In the Helper Times, March 10, 1927, there appeared an advertisement for "Helper's New Subdivision Miner Town on the Pavement Quarter Mile SouthEast of Helper School." "SUM (Price), September 5, 1924; and Papanikolas, Toil and Rage, pp. 180-82. 54 Polk, Utah Gazetteer, 1927-28, p. 66. All capitalized words were thus in the original. ""Helper Commercial District." "Ibid. "Reynolds, Centennial Echoes, p. 176. "Robert G. Athearn, Rebel of the Rockies: A History of the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad (New Haven: Yale University Press, i962), p. 320.

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Comments AlVeltri On July 4,1880, Teacum Pratt and his two wives, Sarah and Anna, settled at the mouth of Gordon Creek, then moved on to Helper in 1881. This is very exciting to me and I hope to you people of this community, to know that Helper is 100 years old. Phil said that Helper had sixteen to thirty-two nationalities and 136 businesses. Sitting home last night, I counted people I knew of sixteen different nationalities that live in Helper today. I feel sure, however, there are more than that. Helper has a flavor and vintage that are very different from any other city in Utah. Phil called it the "hub" of Carbon County. If you will permit some personal reflection, I remember the "Entering Helper the Hub" sign when I used to come to Helper as a little boy with my mother to visit and shop. I loved to come to Helper. It was something special. It was very exciting. We lived in Sunnyside then. Once I recall they had a Labor Day celebration when they blocked off Main Street from what was then Schram Johnson's Drug Store to the Strand Theatre for a street dance. I thought the whole town dancing in the street was absolutely fantastic! Helper was the Broadway and Las Vegas of its time, a place with bright lights and businesses. Imagine that you are a coal miner from Castle Gate, Spring Canyon, or Latuda. It's Saturday night, payday, and you come to town to find not only bright lights and cafes, but saloons, hotels, hot baths, clean beds, women, gambling, whiskey, and dancing at the Rainbow Gardens. Helper was also the Italian social center of Carbon County in those days. There were Italian lodges. My mother belonged to the Stella D'America and Women Moose Heart Lodge. She took great pride in wearing her lodge ribbons and emblems. T h e old-country Italiansâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;our commares

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("friends"), paesanos ("friends that lived in the same village or town in Italy"), and cugini ("cousins")â&#x20AC;&#x201D;all seemed to live in Helper. When we came to visit, my mother would bring a package of this or a bottle of that for so and so. When we returned home we seemed to take a truckful of fresh fruits, vegetables, chickens, eggs, cheese, sausage, salami, bread, and all sorts of goodies. Spring Glen was like a paradise to me. There were orchards and farms, horses, cows, chickens, pigs, sheep, goats, pigeons, and even a magpie. Here we played in the hayloft or wheat silo and smelled and ate hot bread from outdoor ovens. We always had plum jam with hot bread. Every Italian family I know had plum trees in their yards. They couldn't throw the plums away so they made jamâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;lots and lots of jam. You won't catch me eating plum jam today. But if you drive around Helper you still see fruit trees in the front yards, especially plum, but some apricot and peach. Another thing I vividly remember was when they killed the pigs in the fall. Family groups and friends would gather; our fathers did the butchering, our mothers made the sausages, hams, and bacon. There were pigs squealing, fires roaring, water boiling, and kids running everywhere playing games. I think we used about everything in the pig except the squeal. They would give us the pig's bladder and we would blow it up and play ball games. We tasted many samples of fresh sausage. The other big event in the fall was wine making. You always knew it was wine season because our teachers had grapes all over their desks. Walking home from school we could smell the wine fermenting and see an aura of gnats or fruit flies surrounding the wooden box crates. After the grapes were used, the crates became cabins, rubber guns, and go-carts. I r e m e m b e r m a n y n e i g h b o r h o o d h o u s e parties, especially in Joe Bruno's basement. Dominic Albo would sing, dance, and entertain us. We kids would eat, play games, sing, and dance. They would throw quarters at our

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feet when we danced the tarantella (Italian folk dance). The events that kept the Italians together were based mostly around the Catholic church. Weddings, births, baptisms, first communions, confirmations, and funeralsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; in fact, any reason to have a celebration. Once my Dad told me about my niece who was living in California and had just given birth to her first son. My father was upset because her husband didn't have cigars, candies, liquor, and food to celebrate this important event. In Italy, he told me, they often say "Vieni, vieni facema a Festa. Mefiliata a chucha" ("Come, come to my house everybody, Let's have a party. My donkey just gave birth to a baby foal"). We are losing our tradition of celebrating important events. In the early days, weddings and baptisms lasted three or four days. If someone could capture the folklore in this area, it would be fantastic! Helper is full of colorful characters and personalities. This really happened to me: A lady called me up on the phone and said, "Eh, coumbah dis mizzi [name]. You pass my howz make deliver gimme $2.00 dizzi pill, $2.00 artrita, $3.00 pressure blood hi, $3.00 cold bladder, $3.00 sugar diarrhea. Eh maka lilly cheepa, huh!" Phil pointed out that Helper is unique. I can't help but notice that we aren't doing much to preserve its uniqueness. We seem to have lost our pride in Helper. While I was attending the University of Utah we lived in Price. The highway was then Helper's Main Street. Often I would stop at Vic Litizzette's L & A Drug to get an ice cream cone. The soda fountain was situated so that the soda clerk had her back to you when she stooped to get your ice cream. She had a very short uniform and when she bent over it became even shorter. I remember saying to myself that if I had a drug store I would never have a soda fountain like that. Well I am living in the town with the dreary main street, and I bought that very same fountain that I said I would never have! So it may be true that parts of Helper are old and unattractive, but in many ways the town is like a piece of old furniture that you were going to take to the dump. When

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Al Veltri you clean it up, polish it, and shine it instead, it winds up not being a piece of junk but a valuable piece of furniture. How many places have a river running through the middle of town? There's a railroad on one side, a highway on the other, back streets with alleys, a swinging bridge, two tunnels with assorted graffiti, stone steps that go up 150 to 200 feet, hills, washes, parks, and a dugway. It has character and personality, but it's going to be up to us to do something about it. O u r river could look like a clear m o u n t a i n fishing s t r e a m r u n n i n g t h r o u g h a small community where almost everyone could leisurely and conveniently walk to town to do his shopping. With some cleaning and policing and a little imagination many positive things can be done. I don't expect Helper to become a very big business center, but it could be an attractive, pleasant residential area. Dr. Albo gave a speech about Carbon County some time ago. He said something like, "When two people from Utah meet from cities or counties like Salt Lake, Weber, Dixie [i.e., Washington], Sanpete, or Utah there is a casual exchange of greetings or visiting; but when two people from Price, Helper, or Carbon County meet it is different. There is an extra-special magic there." The people of Carbon County are our greatest resource. Reba Keele in a speech at the College of Eastern Utah alumni banquet said very much the same thing. Dr. Keele received a B.A. and an M.A. from Brigham Young University and a Ph.D. from Dartmouth and presently teaches at BYU. When asked, "Why did you go to CEU when you had an honors-at-entrance scholarship to practically any college you wanted to go to?" she said, "Well, I'm from Carbon County, and I'm different because I am from Carbon County. Most people don't understand that." So I think the Historical Society is trying to tell us something. We have a town full of history, personality, and character. Hopefully we can do something to restore Helper's pride and dignity and make it an attractive community again. Mr. Veltri is a pharmacist in Helper and a native of Sunnyside.

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The Carbon County Historical Society The Carbon County Historical Society is an organization of local people interested in collecting, documenting, and preserving our unique Carbon County history. A better understanding of our past enriches our present and enables us to plan for our future. We thank the members of our society and those Carbonites who support us for making this publication possible. Officers Frances Cunningham, president Pruda Trujillo, vice-president Evelyn Patterick, secretary Kathleen Robinson, treasurer Special thanks and acknowledgement to: Carbon County Commission Lee Semken Floyd Marx Guido Rachiele James P. Simone, former commissioner Norman Prichard, county clerk Leonard Miller, director of continuing education, College of Eastern Utah

$795