It was a Saturday morning in March of 2004 when I was making my second trip to the old abandoned and original community of Coaldale, West Virginia in Mercer County. It had been a long cold winter and my mountains were on the verge of coming to life with their lush green forest. With spring just around the corner, it was a beautiful clear day with a brisk breeze stirring. I couldn't help but notice the striking contrast in colors between the grayish brown mountains and the deep cobalt blue sky.

Even though it took nearly two hours to drive to McDowell County from my home in Virginia, the wonderful memories it brought back of growing up here in the 1950's made it well worth the trip. As I passed the "Coaldale" sign near the top of the mountain on Rt. 52 between Bramwell and Maybeury, my mind began to wander. I reminisced back to my first attempt to discover the site of the old community of Coaldale and the legendary Norfolk & Western Railway's Elkhorn Tunnel located there. My thoughts drifted back to the summer of 1996 when my travels that day took me down to Maybeury, where I made a left turn at the local gas station. A short distance up the narrow hollow I came to an intersection where one road turned right and underneath a railroad underpass. This was the location of the old Elkhorn Coal and Coke Company mine and tipple, first opening around 1888. Under the capable guidance of Albert Barlow, its first General Manager, the mining complex quickly grew into a large and profitable operation. In the early days many referred to it as the Barlow Mine. In later years it was bought out by the Mill Creek Coal and Coke Company.

As I proceeded straight on up Barlow Hollow, I remember coming to what was once the heart of the community. There was one large, white two-story house, probably where the mine superintendent lived. Only six or eight of the former coal company houses still remained. Half of them appeared to be abandoned. At its peak, the length of Barlow Hollow was crammed with company houses. Perhaps as many as seventy-five to one-hundred homes had dotted the landscape.

The road continued to run parallel to the Norfolk Southern Railroad high on the hill to my right and the old Norfolk and Western Railway grade on the hill to my left. Twice, I passed hollows on my left where I saw large concrete foundations for the old train trestles. With the opening of the new 7107-foot double track Elkhorn Tunnel and the relocating of the railroad grade in 1950, the old grade and trestles were no longer needed. Now the large pyramid shaped concrete forms that once supported the trestles appeared to be sentinels standing guard over long forgotten memories of a bygone era.

Finally, after about two miles the road appeared to end at the location of a single house situated at the base of the mountain. The new railroad grade continued around the right side of the mountain and the old grade followed the left hillside of the left-hand hollow. Upon closer observation, I noticed a very rough and narrow road that quickly disappeared into the thick, green mountain foliage. As I began to navigate this primitive road, it quickly became apparent it was at best, fit only for a truck to negotiate. As I traveled under the shade of the dense forest canopy, the hot summer air quickly turned cooler and the woodsy smelling mountain air was refreshing. About a mile later I arrived at the head of the hollow where I crossed the original N&W railroad grade. Knowing by the maps I had studied that this had to be the location of the old community of Coaldale, I quickly parked my truck. I knew the old Coaldale Coal and Coke Company mine was located somewhere nearby too. With camcorder in hand I followed the old grade through the thick green bushes and undergrowth that resembled an almost impenetrable rain forest in places. After just a short distance I came into a small clearing that permitted me to look up and discover what put me in mind of the ancient Mayan ruins of Central America. At first, my emotions soared as I realized I had discovered the large, round concrete foundation that the Coaldale water tank once sat on. Just past it I began to see a tall concrete wall on my right and then a depression in the hillside, filled with huge chunks of concrete that were covered with thick green moss. From pictures I'd seen I immediately recognized this as the original Norfolk & Western Elkhorn Tunnel at Coaldale. It was obvious that the tunnel had been shot in with dynamite to seal it when its use was discontinued after 1950 when the new grade and tunnel were opened. As I panned my camera around to capture scenes where the power plant, smokestack, company store and houses once stood, a feeling of sadness began to settle over me. With the railroad gone and the mine worked out, I had been told that the people had been relocated to the new Coaldale community on Rt. 52 so this area could be strip mined. Now the hillsides around this once thriving place lay open with what resembled deep gaping wounds with the thick green undergrowth covering and attempting to heal them. The contour of the land had forever been altered to the point that the former site of Coaldale was almost unrecognizable from its pictures. This had once been a busy and vibrant community like so many others in this area. I could easily imagine children playing in the neighborhood and coal miners with silver lunch pails in hand, headed to the mine for a hard day's work. Visions played out in my mind of a "time freight" roaring out of the tunnel, headed downgrade with its shrieking steam whistle echoing between the mountains.

It was time to get in my truck and move on for I had visited with the past long enough. The road circled around here at the head of the hollow and followed the old railroad bed downgrade toward the site of the famed Maybeury trestle. That's where the most notable train wreck in McDowell County history occurred in 1937. Of course the rails and ties had long since been removed. After driving about a quarter mile I began to hear what sounded like a lawn mower running. Sure enough, as a house came into view, I could see a young man cutting grass around it. Of all the former homes that once stood here, it gave me a warm and nostalgic feeling to discover that there was one surviving structure. As I eased up to the house and parked my truck, the young man shut his lawn mower off and walked over to the fence at the edge of the yard. A young woman stood on the porch ironing clothes and I noticed children's toys strewn about the yard. As I approached the boy I told him I was exploring the old Coaldale site. He greeted me with a smile and seemed eager to answer what questions he could. Before leaving, I asked if he knew where the old Coaldale Coal and Coke Company mine was and he informed me he did know where some old mine openings were and even offered to show them to me. Not having time to oblige him this day, I said I would like to come back in a week or two and take him up on his offer.

Well, ___ now that was in 1996 and here it is 2004 and that week or two had turned into almost eight years. It was time to get back to the business at hand and after all that reminiscing I had arrived in Maybeury almost before I realized it. I was back today to do some serious exploring, bringing my machete, and camera. Once again I made that left turn off Rt. 52 at the gas station in Maybeury. It was almost as if this place was frozen in time now. As I made my way up the hollow, things appeared pretty much the same as they did in 1996. The one big exception was the trees and foliage of the dense undergrowth had not filled out with their leaves. This became very apparent as I drew closer to the little house setting at the base of the mountain where the hollows divided to the right and left. No longer did that primitive road resemble a tunnel entering a jungle. The road was pretty well maintained up to this point, but as I entered the forest it was obvious it had deteriorated even more if that was possible. Quickly, I had to slip my little pickup truck into first gear as it strained to traverse deep potholes and straddle wide gullies washed out in the road. A little over halfway up to the old Coaldale site I began to smell my clutch overheating. I knew it was time to give it a rest as I rounded a sharp curve and found a wide place to pull over. Noticing the good view I had of the old railroad grade on the adjacent hillside, I stepped out to take some pictures. As if fate had mandated it, I turned to look at the hillside behind me and noticed a place where the bank had slid off exposing coal dirt and slate. Then I felt a thrill rise up in me as I spotted a stone wall and old foundation ruins just around the hill. I grabbed my camera and hurried up to the site that first appeared to be another road but I discovered a large flat bench area along the front of the stone wall. Then it hit me. I was standing right on the site of the Coaldale Coal and Coke Company tipple that began operation here in 1890. This had been the rail yard that extended all the way back to the head of the hollow and connected with the main line of the N&W. The coal chutes from the tipple would have probably been right over where I was standing. I found it hard to contain my excitement as I looked up at remnants of the old tipple foundation. Before taking pictures, I used my machete to clean the moss from a section of the six-foot high wall. It revealed the same hand cut stone that you see so much of in the walls and even many buildings here in McDowell County today. Talented Italian stone masons had been recruited to come here from Italy in the early days of the coal industry for this purpose.

I climbed upon and around the stone and brick foundations and took more pictures before coming up to another road or bench area above the tipple site. A short distance away I found a recessed area in the hillside that was probably at least one of the original Coaldale mine portals. From here the mine cars could come out and dump their coal right into the top of the tipple.

I quickly made my way back down to the area of the stone wall. I began to see old coke ovens all along the hill above me as I followed the old railroad grade around the hillside to the point of the mountain. The coke ovens ended here and from this vantage point I could look directly down at the house at the foot of the mountain. I was also directly above the new Norfolk Southern Railroad tracks and to my left and just up the hollow a ways was the entrance to the new Elkhorn Tunnel. Wondering how long the row of coke ovens was, I decided to try and determine its length as I stepped off 450 paces back to the old tipple site. Many of the ovens had been consumed by Mother Nature and were no longer visible.
My calculations had determined the bank of coke ovens was around 1,500 feet long and totaling just over 100 of them. I managed to find one very well preserved oven that I was able to climb into. The inside of the oven looked virtually unchanged from how it must have appeared in 1890. Lying near the front of the oven I found a large yellow firebrick that had become dislodged from the wall. It had the word Sciotoville inscribed into it and I later found out it came from a firebrick plant in Sciotoville, Ohio. Large pieces of coke still lay on the floor of the old coke oven. I always found it quite amazing how they could bake coal for up to forty-eight hours at two-thousand degrees and turn it into almost pure carbon.

Through my research, which is certainly open to scrutiny and interpretation, I've discovered the origin of the Coaldale mine and N&W Elkhorn Tunnel. It all actually started on the other side of the mountain in 1884 when John Cooper opened the Mill Creek Coal and Coke Company mine. It was the first to open on the West Virginia side of the state line and penetrated the ten to twelve foot high Pocahontas No. 3 coal seam. Just down the road and on the Virginia side of the state line, the Pocahontas mine had begun shipping coal in 1883. Cooper was born in South Staffordshire, England in 1842. His family was very poor and his father took him to work in the mines at the age of six. His first job was a "trapper", one who opened and closed ventilation doors inside the mine. He didn't have time to go to school, but was a regular attendant at Sunday school where he learned the basics of reading and writing. He collected old newspapers and discarded books, staying up late at night reading them. He was a self-made man that came to America at the age of nineteen in 1862. His work experience in the Pennsylvania coalfields and New River mines of Fayette County West Virginia gave him the opportunity to rise up through the ranks. His strong work ethic and keen business savvy allowed him to obtain the necessary financial assets and backing to purchase a 1,000-acre track of coal land in Mercer County. It was located between Bramwell and Pocahontas, near the head of Mill Creek and about a mile above the Bluestone River. At this point I could only draw conclusions from information gathered. Cooper apparently worked out an agreement with the Norfolk and Western Railway by which a heading he drove through the mountain between 1886 and 1888 was upgraded to railroad tunnel standards. This became the Elkhorn Tunnel, what most local people referred to as the Coaldale Tunnel. The other section of the mine that exited the Coaldale side of the mountain was incorporated under the name of Coaldale Coal and Coke Company, also owned by John Cooper. With the completion of the railroad tunnel, the Elkhorn Valley saw tremendous growth down to Welch by 1892. I had spent enough time here at the old mine and tipple site. It was time once again to move on as I was excited about getting up to the head of the hollow where I had explored the old Coaldale site eight years before. Arriving there in just mere moments, I parked my truck where the road circled around to follow the old railroad grade down the other hillside toward Maybeury. With camera in one hand and machete in the other, I made my way up to the old tunnel site. My excitement grew as I was able to see much more without the thick green growth of summer foliage that was soon to come. I began taking pictures because I knew these mountains would one day heal its wounds. Although leaning precariously, the tall concrete wall along the hillside leading up to the rubble blocking the tunnel entrance was unchanged.

It appeared time had stood still here as I stared up at the concrete foundation where the water tank sat. As I looked just to the left of the tunnel site, I tried to
envision the eighteen to twenty houses I had seen in pictures, that once filled the hollow here over one hundred years ago. This was once a flourishing and lively neighborhood where my mind's eye could see children playing made-up games like "kick the can" just like I did growing up in a coal camp. Women hung there Monday wash out on clotheslines to dry. These were hard working and industrious people with dreams and aspirations for their children just like people today. I looked at the opposite hillside about two hundred feet downgrade where the company store had sat on the hill just above the railroad tracks. The company store was a favorite community gathering spot where coal miners frequently hung out on Saturday mornings and often told jokes or bragged about how many tons of coal they had loaded that week. As I envisioned those scenes in my mind, I could imagine miners setting on the store steps on a warm summer morning. I could see them waving at the engineer as a steam engine slowly passed by, laboring and struggling to pull its long coal train upgrade and into the tunnel. The grade reached its summit in the tunnel and began its downhill journey as it exited the other side of the mountain at Ruth and headed down to Coopers. It was nice to reminisce about those good old days, but it was time to come back to the present. I was anxious to get back in my truck and follow the old grade down to the last remaining structure in Coaldale, the little house where I had visited with the young family in 1996. I was hoping I could get more information and perhaps let the young man take me to one of the old mine sites he had spoken of. But somehow this day seemed strangely quiet though, as I made my way down the road toward the house. Things seemed more grown up with brush than what I remembered. Then, as I looked to my left, my heart sank as I saw the burnt out remains and foundation of the little house I had such vivid memories of.

I made my way through the three-foot high bushes to where I could climb up on the side of the foundation. Looking down into the basement, I could see the remains of a stove and refrigerator that had fallen through when the house burned. It was now complete; the original community of Coaldale was gone forever.
Sure,__ I felt sad as I drove back down out of the hollow that day and passed those concrete trestle foundations once again. Maybe they really were standing sentinel over and preserving memories of a bygone area. Perhaps if they had not been there I would not have known about the railroad and followed it up to Coaldale. I guess the lesson learned this day was not the sadness I felt, but the knowledge and appreciation I had gained and being able to bring back the memories of what once was.

BUDDY FRENCH ~ COPYRIGHT 2004