Pennsylvania Coal Country in National Spotlight as New Mine Gets Red Carpet Treatment

 

 

By John Luciew

June 8, 2017 - Coal has never been a dirty word around these parts. But even veteran miners can't remember holding a ribbon-cutting and a lavish grand opening for what amounts to a hole in the ground.

That changes today.

In a highly unusual move, Corsa Coal of Canonsburg, Pa., will fete its new Acosta Deep Mine, located 11 miles north of Somerset, with so much pomp and circumstance that even President Donald Trump was invited.

"It's in the spotlight all right," says Corsa Senior Vice President Joseph Gallo, who's overseeing the mine's opening.

"I don't quite understand it, but it is," he adds. "This is the ninth or tenth mine I've put in, and I've never seen anything like it."

The invite to Trump, extended by Corsa's CEO - along with the president's mentioning it while giving a speech last week pulling the U.S. out of the Paris Climate Accord - instantly injected the coal mine smack in the middle of national politics and an international debate over climate change and carbon emission reduction goals.

For many environmentalists, Trump's move to pull out of the Paris deal, while championing a new coal mine, represents a giant step backwards in the global battle over controlling planet-warming carbon emissions.

But here in Somerset, where Trump remains hugely popular, it was seen as president making good on a promise captured in last fall's ubiquitous political lawn-sign slogan here that read, "Trump Digs Coal."

In truth, Corsa was planning its unusual grand opening well before Trump thought of mentioning the new mine in what has become his "Pittsburgh, not Paris" speech. And while there was much initial excitement here that Trump actually might show up for today's ribbon-cutting, the White House now says he'll send a representative instead. There also were reports the president could deliver a message by video at the ceremony, set to begin at 12:30 p.m. Thursday during a cookout at the mine.

Pennsylvania Gov. Tom Wolf, along with numerous state, county and local politicians, will be on hand for the ribbon-cutting atop a specially-built wooden platform overlooking the mine's yawning mouth, some 120 feet below.

In the days since that presidential shout-out, the national media have been descending upon Somerset County to see what the fuss is about.

With politics come protesters, and Somerset is also bracing for them today. An area at the mine site has been set aside for those who want to air their grievances against both Trump and coal.

This isn't the first time humble Somerset County has been thrust into the national spotlight. The attention and cameras came just after passengers of Flight 93 wrestled the plane from terrorists and took it down in a nearby field on Sept. 11, 2001, and for the miracle rescue of nine trapped miners from a collapsed mine at Quecreek in the summer of 2002.

But this time, it's different.

After a dark decade of steep declines in the coal industry, there is a strong sense this is a turning point. Deep mine coal jobs that held the key to the middle class here for decades are coming back, after so many years of going away.

In the process, Somerset is reclaiming its century-old birthright as proud, hard-working coal country.

"It's something good, obviously," Deb Moore, a waitress at the Summit Diner, says of the mine opening, which has been the talk of the town.

"Someone isn't grieving," she adds. "They can be happy. It's not a loss. It's actually a gain."

Then Moore pauses, as if summoning just the right words, and declares, "We have a future now."

The Trump Factor

The biggest debate around here is not whether the mine should open. Virtually everyone in Somerset agrees it should, bringing with it at least 80 underground mining jobs that will pay an average of $80,000 to $100,000 annually, according to the local chamber of commerce.

Rather, the argument among some here is who gets credit.

Diehard Trump supporters are quick to credit the new coal-friendly president. Others note that the mine was started well before the election was decided.

Still the debate, often a heated one, rages on, including inside the aptly-named Coal Miner's Cafe in Jennerstown, Pa., about 10 miles from the new mine.

Bitter politics have all but ruined cafe owner Betty Rhoads' morning coffee klatch.

"I have four Democrats and four Republicans," she says. "Sometimes I have to break up the fights."

These morning coffee debates seem to find disagreements on everything, splitting predictably on party line. The caffeine-fueled squabbles over who should get credit for the new mine are simply the latest lightning rod.

"The Republicans will tell you it's all Trump - he has basically opened this mine," Rhoads adds. "The Democrats say he has nothing to do with it. It's a debate about what he had to do with it."

If the political passions ended there, with a friendly agreement to disagree, things would be fine.

But throughout the 2016 campaign and continuing unabated ever since Trump upset Hillary Clinton last November, the debate has been running hot - way too hot for this placid slice of otherwise-friendly coal country.

"I never ever had stuff like that all these years," Rhoads complains. "You have disagreements, but not anger. I've had people get up and leave, they get so angry over a comment. Just a comment! I try to stay as neutral as I can. I've got to keep both Republicans and Democrats. I like them all. They're all my friends. I try to defuse it sometimes. I say, 'Hey, that's enough guys'."

In truth, permitting for the new mine dates as far back as 2010, Corsa executives say in an interview. But the real work on the new mine didn't heat up until last September, two months before the presidential election was decided.

The major catalyst wasn't politics.

Rather, it was global market forces that control the price for metallurgical coal, the kind used in steel production.

After years in the doldrums, the metallurgical coal market seemed to turn on a dime recently, with China cutting some of its production and supply disruptions in Australia.

Suddenly, all over West Virginia and parts of Pennsylvania, coal companies were scrambling to gear up production of this kind of coal. Meanwhile, thermal coal -- the kind used to make steam and turn electrical generators at power plants -- remains in a slump after years of mothballing coal-fired power plants in favor of natural gas, made so much cheaper by the widespread fracking of shale deposits.

The Acosta Deep Mine is a direct beneficiary of these global market forces. And Corsa, which also owns the still-working Quecreek mine nearby, may not stop with the opening just one new mine. Company officials confirm they are looking at other nearby sites, as well. Other coal companies are said to be looking to open metallurgical mines in the area, as well.

In other words, the boom is on. At least for the moment.

Somerset -- and the coal industry -- has seen all of this before. They know every boom is eventually, inevitably, followed by a bust. So while many here are happy and will celebrate the new mine's opening, they remain cautious.

"It's the beginning of, hopefully, a future again," Rhoads says of the new mine.

"Get it started. Hopefully you'll see some more," she adds. "We're just hoping. We have our hopes up with a caution sign there. This has happened so often."

Coal Runs Deep Here

Just as coal runs in black veins deep under Somerset County's rolling hills, it courses through the family trees of people who live here. 

This includes 75-year-old John Drabish. His grandparents came to America as immigrants to work in Somerset's mines back in 1906. His father followed his family into the mines at the tender age of 12.

But as John was coming of age, his dad brought him to work one day for a lesson they no longer teach at those "bring your child to work" days.

Father and son crawled deep into the dark, dank mine. Dad set a charge of dynamite, hand-drilling the hole, placing the explosive and then stringing the long fuse the whole way outside of the mine.

There, the two sat and waited for the flame to crawl back into the darkness along the trail of the fuse.

Then...BANG!

The dark mouth of the mine was soon spitting black coal dust into their faces. Little John got a big, gritty mouthful of the nasty stuff. That was more than enough. For a lifetime.

"He put off a blast, and all that black smoke came out," Drabish says of his dad. "Then he shook a finger at me: 'This is your first time and your last time in the mines.' And it was."

John Drabish would work construction and tend a dairy farm, instead. Still, he longs for those long, lost glory days of the coal mines in Somerset County.

"The mines were everywhere," Drabish says, a note of awe in his voice. "There were thousands of miners then. They were happy."

They literally lived off the land. The mines made their pay, built their homes and bought their cars. And the miners and their families tended gardens in their yards and hunted and fished for game - a seemingly idyllic, simple life.

But back then, mine safety was but an afterthought. And the mines took their toll, exacting a high cost.

"Back then, everybody was getting black lung," Drabish says of the debilitating and deadly disease brought on by years of eating coal dust.

"My dad died of black lung," he says. "He started in the mines at age 12, and he would retire from the mines."

But it was a retirement his coal-sickened father couldn't enjoy.

It seems nearly everyone here has a family connection to the coal mines.

For Rhoads, it is a father and grandpa who mined in the days of hand drills and donkeys. But it wasn't until Quecreek collapsed in July 2002, that she learned how much the mines really meant to her father.

She watched in shock as her once-stoic dad sat in front of a television for nearly three days straight as a fierce battle was being waged to rescue nine trapped miners, just a few miles west of Jennerstown, but more than 240 feet under the earth.

Her dad wept openly during those 77 white-knuckle hours. And when it was over, Rhoads knew what she would do. She'd rename her already successful restaurant the Coal Miner's Cafe and decorate it with memorabilia from her family's coal days, along with many other coal-themed mementos.

Today, the Coal Miner's Cafe includes a memorial to what folks around here still call the Quecreek Miracle. Rhoads and her husband, John, still host Quecreek survivors for dinner. They always make a point of including the first nine miners, who managed to escape after the explosion but who are often forgotten, as well as the nine rescued three days later, pulled from the earth, one-by-one, to thunderous applause and tears of joy.

To this day, the Quecreek rescue stands as an emotional highpoint of Somerset County's rich coal history. The opening of the Acosta Deep Mine will never approach its significance or meaning.

Yet even the Coal Miner's Cafe has a sign welcoming Corsa Coal and thanking the company for the new jobs.

"It's just a way of life here," Betty says.

Mining Business

Headlines trumpet the new mine's 70 to 80 high-paying jobs. But the economic impact of the mine opening will extend far beyond.

"It has an impact on the entire business community here," says Ron Aldom, executive director of the Somerset County Chamber of Commerce.

Indeed, a working deep mine can spin off scores of jobs in the lumber mills to provide the mine support beams, the fuel companies that gas up the trucks, trucking companies and drivers to haul the coal to cleaning operations and then for export overseas.

And of course, those high-paying mining jobs inject money into all manner of local businesses -- from car dealers to local diners and bars.

Consultant Michele R. Beener calculated all the spinoff benefits of the mine in writing a grant proposal that ultimately secured $3 million in state matching funds for the mine's opening. Overall, company officials estimate the mine will cost a total of $15 million to open.

In addition to the mine's 70 to 100 direct full-time jobs, it's expected to fuel up to 500 indirect jobs, according to Beener's analysis.

The first full year of the mine's operation could pump nearly $8.5 million into the local economy, according to her economic projections.

"This has been some great news for Somerset," Beener says. "You typically don't see coal mines getting (state) funded."

Moreover, the economic benefits of this single mine could continue some 15 years into the future.

That's how much coal is contained in this single seam, which runs about 45-inches high over a four-mile area beneath high, rolling hills.

This so-called Middle Kittanning Seam holds an estimated 10 million clean tons of coal. However, only about 55 percent is actually recoverable. Still, the numbers work, so long as the current prices for metallurgical coal hold for the 400,000 clean tons the mine will produce each year.

As for where the coal ultimately ends up, as much as 85 percent could be exported overseas to make steel in countries such as South Korea, Turkey, Egypt and Brazil, Corsa officials say.

None will go to China, as that country is still battling a coal surplus. Corsa will clean the coal at one of two nearby operations, then ship most of it through ports in Baltimore and Norfolk, Virginia.

Pennsylvania's newest coal mine gets grand opening in Somerset County

 

Time to Celebrate

If today's grand opening is a first for a coal mine, perhaps it's long past due. Somerset has come a long, hard way to get here.

"Poverty," says Rhoads. "That's the only word I can think of. Most of the politicians don't understand our situation. People don't have good jobs here."

Underground mining jobs are good jobs.

For many in Somerset County, they long provided a gateway to the middle class. But that precious passage has been slowly eroding since the 1970s. County mining jobs dipped to an all-time low of less than 300 under President Barack Obama. Now, those numbers are crawling back up.

For Rhoads, it's a pleasure to serve young miners breakfast when they come to her cafe following an overnight shift.

"The young folks working is what I like to see, men 25 to 45 -- what I call young," she says. "They are happy. They are comfortable. And they have their breakfast and a few beers, because that's their evening. They work all night."

If Trump isn't responsible for the mine's opening, which was set in motion before his election, the new fossil-fuel-favoring president is why many in Somerset County have newfound pride in their coal heritage.

"A lot of people don't like mining," says John Weir, a land manager at the new mine. "But a lot of people around here, it's their livelihood. I think Mr. Trump put life into everyone in the United States. It's put a little hope into everybody. You have to love the guy."

For Robert Bottegal, an engineering general manager for Corsa who supervised the excavation of some 320,000 cubic yards of dirt and rock to create the mine's entrance 120 feet down, the mine's opening symbolizes so much more.

"It just shows there is a great, strong working class in America," he says. "That's what's going on -- a lot of hard work. Hard work, determination, perseverance."

In return, the miners and the other workers with jobs tied to the mines will get their shot at the middle class.

"You can have a nice house and put your kids through college," Bottegal says.

"You just have to go underground to do it," his colleague, Joe Gallo, adds.

For more than 100 years, the people of Somerset County have been willing to make this bargain.

It's estimated that more than 100 million tons of coal have been pulled from beneath this county, which runs as a high plateau between the eastern and western fronts of the Allegheny Mountains.

So much coal mined and given to make the steel that built American cities, won its wars and heated and lighted its homes and businesses. Yet so much more coal here to give, so long as America, and the world, should want it.

As of right now, Somerset County's coal is being sought again. And how sweet it is here -- more than enough reason to celebrate.