Working Girl Blues (15 page)

Francis Estep was gunned down by gun thugs hired by mine operators at Paint and Cabin Creek during a strike at a non-union mine. He was at home with his wife and baby son Clifford. His wife was seven months pregnant at the time. His brother and some friends were there talking about the strike when they heard shots at about 10:30
P.M.
coming from a slow-moving train with its lights out going past their house. Estep grabbed a gun and ran outside and hollered to his wife to take the baby and run to the cellar. She headed for the back of the house just as Estep rounded the corner to guard her. But it was too late. The shower of bullets had begun coming from the darkened train. There were about one hundred in all, nineteen of which went through the clothing of Maud Estep and baby Clifford. They were not hurt, but one fatal shot hit Estep in the face and he fell dead at his wife's feet. She sat the baby down, took the gun from her dead husband, and emptied it at the train as it disappeared in the dark of the night. They took her to the hospital the next day and took her husband to the graveyard. She was too distraught to
attend his funeral. Her baby girl was born two months later, and was named Francis Francesco after her husband. As they buried her husband on the hilltop at Holly Grove, the mine guards kept firing bullets into the crowd of friends and relatives who came to pay their respects.

Maud Estep never stepped foot in the little bullet-ridden house in Holly Grove again. There were no Social Security or union benefits there in 1913. So she was unable to support herself or her children. She later remarried, but was widowed again in a few years. She died in 1955 in Greenbriar County, West Virginia. There's a lot more to this story; this is only a brief outline. This song was written in 1983 with little information to go on, and revised some after reading the full story in a West Virginia traditional magazine called
Goldenseal.

Up there on that hillside there's a coal miner's grave

And the briars and bushes about cover it up these days

For there's no one to claim it or care if he's gone away

For he was only a miner and it's only a coal miner's grave

So pay no attention it's only a coal miner's grave

Pay no attention to the briars and the weeds let them stay

For who's gonna miss him or care that he's gone away

For he was only a miner and it's only a coal miner's grave

Francis Estep from Holly Grove W. VA.

In nineteen and thirteen loaded coal ten hours a day

Six days a week forty seven and a half cents a ton

He was shot down by gun thugs at the young age of thirty one

So the briars and brambles ramble all over his grave

Like the thorns in his life for just living he had to pay

Now there's no one to miss him or care if he's gone away

For he was only a miner and it's only a coal miner's grave

So is this little marker his only memorial today

A man who gave his life for the UMW of A

Is this how we remember all the sacrifices he made

To let the briars and the weeds take over his union and grave

 

Black Lung

My oldest brother Thurman died of black lung disease, and so did two of my brothers-in-law. I think watching him die was the main inspiration for the song. When he was near death, I went back home for three weeks to sit up with him. He was born, lived, and died poor. He didn't even have enough money to bury himself. His horrible death took a toll on me and affected the way I thought. My song, written in 1969, really came from the gut. I didn't hold anything back. I didn't fully realize until after I wrote it what I had. My brother never heard the song. It got a lot of recognition. I was asked to sing for a protest meeting sponsored by the United Mine Workers down in Horse Creek, Kentucky, to challenge the Social Security Administration. A lot of miners were not receiving benefits, and the black lung victims were being ignored. A lot of union members, lawyers, and activists such as the VISTA people were present. Walter Cronkite and the
CBS Evening News
broadcast a portion of the meeting, and my song got a lot of coverage on national television. I began to get a lot of requests to sing it at union meetings.

He's had more hard luck than most men could stand

The mines were his first love, but never his friend

He's lived a hard life, and hard he'll die

Black lung's done got him, his time is nigh

Black lung, black lung you're just biding your time

Soon all this suffering I'll leave behind

But I can't help but wonder what God had in mind

To send such a devil, to claim this soul of mine

He went to the boss man, but he closed the door

It seems you're not wanted, when you're sick and you're poor

You're not even covered in their medical plans

And your life depends on the favors of man

Down in the poorhouse on starvation's plan

Where pride is a stranger and doomed is a man

His soul full of coal dust 'till his body's decayed

Everyone but black lung's done turned him away

Black lung, black lung your hand's icy cold

As you reach for my life and you torture my soul

Cold as that waterhole down in that dark cave

Where I spent my life's blood digging my own grave

Down at the graveyard, the boss man came

With his little bunch of flowers

Dear God! What a shame

Take back those flowers, don't sing no sad songs

The die has been cast now

A good man is gone

 

Coal Mining Woman

It was one of the only two songs that I've been commissioned to write. The other one was “They'll Never Keep Us Down.” I wrote “Coal Mining Women” in 1984 for a little documentary by Appalshop Films on mining women made in Whitesburg, Kentucky. It's a short film that talks about how women are discriminated against when they go to work in the coal mines. It was not an easy song to write. They wanted something a little different from my usual traditional style; that is, they didn't want old-time or bluegrass. So I decided to sing it in a bluesy country style, and gave the band permission to improvise as much as they wanted to on their breaks. They had never heard the song before, and since I'd just written it, I had not as yet tried it with a band. So it was fun working it out together from scratch. We finally got a cut that not only pleased us, but was different enough to please the film company as well.

I got the woman coal miners blues

And just like you I've got the right to choose

A job with decent pay a better chance to make my way

And if you can't stand by me don't stand in my way

Well we had the babies kept the home fires burning bright

Walked the picket line in the thickest of the fight

Yes we helped you open doors and we can help you open more

If you can't stand by me don't stand in my way

I'm entitled to work a job that is free

From intimidations that are forced on me

From men who are out of line out of step with time

If you can't stand by me don't stand in my way

Now union brothers don't you think the time is right

That we stick together and unite

Some better seeds to sow and help this union grow

And if you stand by me I'll surely stand by you

We must work together to change the things that's wrong

For better conditions we've waited much too long

Health and safety have to be a first priority

And the change can only come through you and me

 

The Yablonski Murder

This song was inspired by the murder in 1971 of Jock Yablonski and his wife. At the time he was running a strong campaign against Tony Boyle for the presidency of the United Mine Workers. Boyle hired some gun thugs who killed Yablonski, his wife, and daughter. When I read about the murders in the newspaper, I was enraged. I sat down immediately and wrote the song,
without very many details to go on. I later rewrote the third verse. One time right after the song was written and old wounds were still raw from the Boyle and Yablonski episode, I was asked to sing for a UMWA convention. One of the organizers asked me not to sing the song, for some of Boyle's supporters were going to be there, and they weren't sure how they would react to the song. But mainly they wanted the opportunity to win their support, so that they could start getting the union back on solid ground again.

Clarksville Pennsylvania is not too far from here

Coal miners were hoping for a brighter New Year

But for Jock Yablonski, his daughter and wife

The New Year brought an ending to their precious lives

Well it's cold blooded murder friends, I'm talking about

Now who's gonna stand up and who's gonna fight

You better clean up that union, put it on solid ground

Get rid of that dirty trash, that keeps a working man down

Death bells were ringing as Jock made his plans

To save the U.M.W. for honest working men

So he ran against Tony Boyle, and all his dirty clan

But Tony hired a hit man, that was Jock's fatal end

Jock Yablonski was a coal miner's friend

He fought for the rights of the working man

He begged the law to protect him, but they turned him down

Now Jock, his wife and daughter all lay beneath the ground

Oh Lord the poor miner, will his fight never end

They'll abuse even murder him to further their plans

Oh where is his victory how will it stand?

It'll stand when poor working men all join hands

 

Clay County Miner

My inspiration for writing this song came from an event I was asked to sing at in eastern Kentucky. They wanted me to sing my song “Black Lung” for a public hearing on the issue of black lung benefits being denied to disabled miners in Kentucky. The hearing was organized by a group called Mountain People's Rights. Their lawyers and organizers were trying to help a movement of disabled miners from Clay County, in eastern Kentucky, get their benefits. While they were sympathetic to the miners, the doctors who filed the claims reports were not, and were often hostile. So 78 percent of the claims filed were being turned down. Mountain People's Rights' folks turned to Maxine Kenny, who had press contacts and would be sympathetic to their cause, to help publicize the fact that such a large percentage of claims were falling through the cracks. She saw quickly that the story deserved a lot more than a mere press conference and a few news releases. So they decided to
make
news, to hold a public hearing on the issue. For several weeks they worked with the disabled miners to prepare for a public hearing. The miners would be the interrogators, and “experts” from the disabled miners' membership would testify as well as medical and legal experts. Over 800 people attended the Hearing held in November 1970, in Horse Creek, Kentucky. The news coverage prodded the conscience of Congress and the general public who thought that things had been taken care of with the passage of the Coal Mine Health and Safety Act of 1970. Maxine had convinced a dozen journalists to attend the hearing and excellent stories appeared in the
New York Times,
the
Washington Post,
the
Louisville Courier-Journal,
and many others.