Thanks, Fred! My grandpa also worked in the CCC camps during the Great Depression and worked on building the big ski jump in Iron Mountain. He was never idle and always had a good story to tell.
Fascinating storytelling! I remember reading about that many years later in my grandparents' home on Silver Lake - between Iron River and Watersmeet. I grew up visiting them there every summer and would occasionally go up to help my grandpa put the dock in or take it out for the winter.
Wow, someone actually knows where Iron River is! I’ve been to Watersmeet, as the grandparents had friends there. They were on a lake, but I can’t remember which one. I spent almost every summer in the U.P. in my formative years, and I have many great memories of so many places there.
Eagle Lake was a bigger one around there – my grandparents had a bunch of friends on it. I love the U.P. and gravitate to it even though we live in the south now.
A very well executed poem, Carole. I appreciated how you engaged multiple senses in the paragraphs: sight, hearing, smell, touch, smell. Thanks for sharing such an intimate family experience. Your grandfather must have been a source of strength for all of you.
Thanks, Manuel. I never know what sort of poem is coming next! My grandparents were very special to me, and my thoughts have been on them lately. I learned so much from them, and they certainly were a source of strength.
Carole, this is an excellent account of what happened with the mine and your grandfather. Thank you for giving us the story through your poem and the write up.
Yeah, it was a tragic event. My grandpa lost a few of his best friends. About three years before the Sherwood Mine explosion, there was a similar event at an adjacent mine, so they knew when they hit sulfurous shale that there was that risk. Working underground is just plain dangerous.
Fantastic! Your precognition theme is reminiscent of Daphne du Maurier's "Don't Look Now" - also a fine Nicolas Roeg film starring Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie. Always listen carefully!
Thanks again, and also for the restack! Maybe someday I’ll put my poems into in some kind of book, but for now, it’s nice to have a place to archive them.
Wow indeed! What a vivid, well-told tale.
Thanks, Loren. I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandparents these days, and my poems are starting to reflect that. See also “Host.”
Wow! Thanks for sharing this. It is easy to forget those who built a nation with sweat and blood.
Thanks, Fred! My grandpa also worked in the CCC camps during the Great Depression and worked on building the big ski jump in Iron Mountain. He was never idle and always had a good story to tell.
Fascinating storytelling! I remember reading about that many years later in my grandparents' home on Silver Lake - between Iron River and Watersmeet. I grew up visiting them there every summer and would occasionally go up to help my grandpa put the dock in or take it out for the winter.
Wow, someone actually knows where Iron River is! I’ve been to Watersmeet, as the grandparents had friends there. They were on a lake, but I can’t remember which one. I spent almost every summer in the U.P. in my formative years, and I have many great memories of so many places there.
Eagle Lake was a bigger one around there – my grandparents had a bunch of friends on it. I love the U.P. and gravitate to it even though we live in the south now.
It really is a small world!😊
Yes, I remember being out that way. Also Hagerman, Chicagon and Fortune Lake (now Bewabic State Park—darn it, have to pay to get in now).
Hagerman! That's the one I was trying to think of where they had other friends. I'm glad you mentioned it.
A very well executed poem, Carole. I appreciated how you engaged multiple senses in the paragraphs: sight, hearing, smell, touch, smell. Thanks for sharing such an intimate family experience. Your grandfather must have been a source of strength for all of you.
Thanks, Manuel. I never know what sort of poem is coming next! My grandparents were very special to me, and my thoughts have been on them lately. I learned so much from them, and they certainly were a source of strength.
The beauty of poetry is that its source is unknown, perhaps.
Carole, this is an excellent account of what happened with the mine and your grandfather. Thank you for giving us the story through your poem and the write up.
My grandpa told me lots of stories, which seems to have rubbed off on me a bit!
You learned well! He was a great teacher You keep writing, I’ll keep reading.
What a story--wow. Your poor grandpa.
Yeah, it was a tragic event. My grandpa lost a few of his best friends. About three years before the Sherwood Mine explosion, there was a similar event at an adjacent mine, so they knew when they hit sulfurous shale that there was that risk. Working underground is just plain dangerous.
So horrifying. I can only imagine how awful it must have been.
An excellent poetic retelling of the perils of underground mining; as for feelings of impending doom, at times they are right.
Thanks, Perry. Mining is a dangerous way to make a living, but someone has to do it. Grandpa had no fear, but maybe he should have.
What an amazing tale of survival and a wonderful poem!
Thanks, Ernie. I’m glad you liked my story. You would’ve liked my grandpa😊.
Fantastic! Your precognition theme is reminiscent of Daphne du Maurier's "Don't Look Now" - also a fine Nicolas Roeg film starring Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie. Always listen carefully!
Thanks, David! I ‘m not familiar with those works, but I’ll look them up. I think we always need to look for signs and take them seriously.
Wow! Amazing! You should be published!
Thanks, Larry. I am published—right here on Substack!
Good evening. Yes, I know, but I was referring to perhaps a book or two. You are certainly quite talented.
Thanks again, and also for the restack! Maybe someday I’ll put my poems into in some kind of book, but for now, it’s nice to have a place to archive them.