Coal

When a young Vivian Gillis left the town of Springhill, Nova Scotia in 1948 to be married, she so looked forward to her life, yet longed for home. The close knit ties of a coal mining family are carefully interwoven and uneasy to sever, perhaps due to a lot of pain and anguish. The kind of pain and anguish that goes along with the tragedies afforded coal mining families.

The depth and darkness of the Cumberland Mine has been described over and over as the blackest of black, the loneliest of lonely and the coldest of cold. But it is with those above ground that the worry sets in, and the waiting takes place. Everyday the miners dig a little deeper, miles beneath the earth's crust.

Vivian Gillis's father Dan and his brothers were all the men of the deep mines. All bore the scars of this difficult and weary life. Most of them aged before their time, suffered illness later in life, but coal mining was in their blood. A hard old life for these resilient and valiant men. As Vivian Gillis and her husband Bert were in the process of creating a family in Amherst, tragedy struck. Fully pregnant with her fourth child, the news came from Springhill. November 1956, a devastating mine explosion. Vivian Gillis, beside herself with grief, waited for her husband to come home and safely deliver her to her family.

The drive from Amherst to Springhill is a beautiful one at the best of times but in the fall is it is just short of spectacular. The color of the leaves , the ones that hadn't fallen, were able to channel her thoughts back to her childhood and the many strolls she would take through the untouched forest. The sound of the sirens broke her concentration and brought her back to reality. As they got closer and closer to the town the traffic thickened. Cars, trucks, police, fire engines, ambulances. Dense smoke hung in the air and the stench of death was all about. This dreary vision of Springhill is one that Vivian Gillis would hold in her soul forever. Tragedy brings people out in the streets. All met near the face of the mine. Doctors, miners, draegermen, business men and the intense and profound sound of crying. Just as they were able to bring some to the surface word came that friends and family alike had lost someone dear.

A cousin, an uncle, a friend, lost Such is the life of a miner's family. Blood and bone is the price for coal, pain and suffering linger in your soul. Vivian Gillis, like every other true Springhiller took the disaster in stride. She supported those who needed it, fed the families of the miners, opened her family home on Lisgar Street to those who needed a hot cup of tea or a place to lie down. She even sang songs with those whose souls required the comfort of music.

The media swarmed the town, support came from all over the world, and as families came together to say goodbye to the lost ones, Vivian Gillis went home to Amherst to have her baby. Naturally upset by all that went on, Vivian suffered complications that sent her to the doctor. Blood pressure at an alarming rate might very well cause the death of her baby or even take her own life. So, she had to settle herself down. She did, and a few weeks later she held a baby girl in her arms.

As life moved forward, Vivian and Bert and their five children lived a moderately quiet life. It was probably not their intention to have any more children but a couple of years later there she was, full with child, 1958, when the underground bump shook the town of Springhill nearly upside down. This time 74 men were killed, the other 100 survived, some barely. Loved ones collected their beaten and broken and the whole town mourned the losses together. This time the results were devastating enough to make the decision to permanently close the mines.

Again, there she was evident in her passion, full with child and ready to serve. It wasn't an infringement on her part, it was a sincere obligation. When one thinks about the disasters that we, as a world community, have had to face, it might be true that it produces some of the strongest and most resilient people. I don't think anything compares to the souls of the families of coal miners. Work, blood, sweat, worry, tears, death and more tears. Despite the obvious dangers involved, their abounds among them a true sense of the value of life, laughter and love. Those brave hard working men like Dan Gillis, his brothers Angus and Hughie, and sisters Francess Gillis, and Mary Soppa were determined to secure a better life for their children, far from the darkness of the mines. Dan Gillis didn't want Vivian to be a miner's wife. To him, there had to be a better life outside the walls of Springhill and there was.

She marched forward with a proud sense of who she really was, and when forced to face any kind of obstacles in her future, she was quick to rely upon those inward instincts of survival that were permanently embedded on her soul. I should know, Vivian Gillis was, is, and always will be, my mother. Vivian Canton (1927-1998)

More Coal

When a young Vivian Gillis left the town of Springhill, Nova Scotia in 1948 to be married, she so looked forward to her new life, and yet longed for home. The close knit ties of a coal mining family are carefully interwoven and uneasy to sever, perhaps due to a lot of pain and anguish. The kind of pain and anguish that goes along with the tragedies afforded coal mining families.

Raised by a spinster aunt in her grandmother's house, Vivian Gillis was made to feel like she belonged, and yet knew there was a different or better life for her. After graduation, she moved to Amherst to work. Aunt Francess told her to watch herself. " There's no need of you coming home in a year with a baby" and there wasn't. As a clerk in a hardware store, Vivian Gillis excelled. Her quick wit and outgoing personality was popular with the public, and before long she was making a name for herself as a knowledgeable and intelligent young woman. Something Francess Gillis knew from the very beginning.

A hateful and bitter woman in her fifties, Francess Ann Gillis, was truly unhappy with the choices she had made in her own life and did not want the same for Vivian. Nan, as Francess became known to all, made the mistake of having a baby out of wedlock in the 1930's when such a thing was unheard of. She had a daughter of her own, who in her own right was beautiful and intelligent, but was still a reminder of mistakes made, and despising the after-effects of such a shameful thing withdrew into herself. Since then the world had to pay for Nan's mistake. Her sharp wit and acid tongue was a weapon she used frequently and fiercely. I guess it was easier to push people away and to hold them at bay rather than open your heart. She did, however, hold in high regard, her niece, Vivian. More like a daughter than her own, Francess grew to love and respect the young girl with coal black hair and hazel eyes. One whose beauty, inside and out, only added to the Gillis household. What Nan probably never realized was that she was in her own way a strikingly beautiful woman. Yet, for her life was passing by and she was forced into the role of care-giver, a matronly spinster, a role she never felt she deserved.

So when it came time for Vivian to leave home, it hit Nan the hardest. Would she ever say so, not likely. Nan would never stand in her way of her making a better life. She did make it clear that the ‘door was always open', a tradition in coal mining families and a tradition in the Gillis family.

When Vivian Gillis met Bert Canton in the mid-forties it was obvious to one and all that wedding bells might very well ring. It had to be a church wedding because in the Gillis family, Catholicism was as present as brewed tea. St. John's Catholic Church in Springhill wasn't quite big enough to house all the Gillises and the Cantons, so Amherst's St. Charles Catholic Church would do. In November of 1948, the two of them stood proudly at the front of the church, filled with a real sense of family, and became man and wife.

Vivian's father Dan Gillis proudly walked his daughter down the aisle while his new wife Veronica and all of those who had a connection to the kind young woman, gazed with loving eyes to see their girl get married. Francess Gillis especially could not hold back the tears. Never one to emote, she did her best to keep herself composed. She knew that with Bert Canton, Vivian would have a good life, and yet she hated the thought of losing her forever. As Vivian Gillis approached her future husband at the alter, she paused in the aisle for just a moment and reached into her bouquet of bright red roses and pulled from it, a single carnation that she gently handed to Nan. Silence filled the church. All of those who knew the situation were quick to realize that without saying one word, Vivian Gillis, found a way to say thank you, thank you very much. An unexpected surprise to the spinster aunt who up until that time acted as though no one mattered to her.

As time moved on, the babies started to come. Life in Amherst offered more than that of Springhill so really there was no reason to look back. Life would only move forward. But, there is a special bond that cannot be broken when it comes to the close-knit ties of a coal mining family. Despite the fact that the Cantons welcomed her into the fold, Vivian longed for the company of the Gillises, especially Nan. There, in her kitchen, the round and plump spinster stared out the window thinking about days gone by and the after effects of those days. Her thoughts were filled with family, her parents, brothers and their wives, and the losses and gains they all experienced in the small town of Springhill.

Tragedy brought Vivian home. November, 1956, word came that the Number 4 Colliery had an explosion as bad as the one in 1891. Shivers ran up Vivian's spine. Fully pregnant with her fourth child, there was no question, home she would go. Nan was waiting for her, so was Nan's sister Mary and sister-in-law Nora whose husband Angus was one of the missing miners. All of them were familiar with the dangers of the mines and had heard about the devastation that a mine explosion can bring. This was their first experience in such a crisis and all pulled together instinctively. Their father Dancin' Dan Gillis always told them how lucky they were to be born girls and to never marry a coal miner like their mother did. Yet, COAL is what made Springhill, it heated the homes, fed the families, kept them all going. Francess and Mary's brothers were all the men of the deep mines, it's the only life they knew.

To serve the community they opened up the family home on Lisgar Street, making sandwiches, brewing tea, offering a resting place for weary helpers. Dozens were killed and even more injured. Sleep was out of the question and although taxing on the average person, Vivian Gillis began to show signs of battle fatigue. Nan took her to the side telling her that she had done all she could do here and it was time for her to go home to her family. "You have to think about your own family now, we will take care of the rest" Vivian knew she was right. Home to Amherst, home to her children and soon, to a new face, that of a little girl.

As life moved forward and the people of Springhill dealt with the losses, it became more and more evident to Vivian that these really were her people and my, how proud she really was of each and every one of them. These very strong and resilient individuals were a true example of what makes heroes. Not just the draegermen who did the rescues but the bare faced miners who jumped in to help, the doctors, and the businessmen who abandoned their social roles to roll up their sleeves and pitch in. The women, whose job it was to worry and wait, and how they took care of business above ground. Not just in times of emergency, but everyday.

It was proven again a couple of years later when, with child once again, 1958 and the Underground Bump that killed so many men. Again they rose to the challenge and fought a battle that was bigger than all of them. Nobody would have blamed them if they gave up, yet that seemed out of the question. So as Vivian Gillis, and all the Gillis women, and the rest of the resilient women of Springhill stood side by side, giving, not taking, it became clearer than ever that this was where each belonged, with family.

Despite the fact that Nan is gone, she does not lie in a lonely grave. She is buried along side family with several generations of the Gillises. A proud and stubborn woman whose personality was as immense as her talent to breathe and to survive. Her natural beauty, long flowing black hair pulled up and pinned into a bun. A flowered body apron draped over a matronly dress. Despite the tough exterior, within her lie a heart of gold, carefully protected by sheer guts and little glory. Francess Ann Gillis, the original coal miner's daughter. I honestly love you, and I miss you.

Francess Ann Gillis (1890-1974)

'''''''''''''''''' Newsreel 1956 Explosion in the Springhill Mine

The 1956 Explosion occurred on November 1, 1956 when a mine train hauling a load of fine coal dust up to the surface of the 25-year old Number 4 colliery to remove it from the pithead encountered a heavy flow of ventilation air being forced down the shaft by fans on the surface. The flow of air disturbed the dust on the ascending train cars so that it spread throughout the air of the shafts of No. 4. Before the train reached the surface, several of the cars broke loose and ran back down the slope of No. 4, derailing along the way and hitting a power line, causing it to arc and ignite the coal dust at the 5500 foot level (below the surface).

The resulting explosion blew up the slope to the surface where the additional oxygen created a massive blast which leveled the bank head on the surface - where the coal is hauled out from the mine in an angled shaft into a vertical building (the coal is then dropped into railway cars). The majority of devastation occurred to the surface buildings but many miners were trapped in the shaft with the derailed train cars and fallen support timbers and other items damaged by the explosion.

In a show of heroics, Draegermen (rescue miners) and barefaced miners (no breathing equipment) entered the 6100 foot deep shaft of No. 4 to aid their co-workers. In total 88 miners were rescued and 39 were killed in the explosion. Media coverage of the 1956 explosion was largely overshadowed by the Soviet invasion of Hungary on October 24, 1956 however Canadian and local media did offer extensive coverage of the second Springhill mining disaster.

Following the rescue effort, No. 4 and the connecting No. 2 collieries were sealed for several months to deprive the fires of oxygen. Upon reopening, the bodies of miners who remained below the surface were recovered and the mine returned to operation.

Angus Gillis : A Coal Miner's Story

November 1, 1956. Springhill, Nova Scotia.

After supper, on a Thursday afternoon, like every other afternoon, seven year old Vivian Gillis stood on the doorstep of her friend's home breathing in the fresh Nova Scotia air. Despite Fall approaching it was a lovelier than usual day. Warm and beautiful. Like every other day she would wait for her friend Dorothy to put on her coat and the two of them would go outside to play. Just as Dorothy opened the door to greet her young friend, Vivian felt a rumbling beneath her feet.

For a second or two she felt almost weightless as the compression beneath the earth made it's way to the surface. Feeling this turbulence beneath her , Vivian instinctively knew something was wrong. Exactly what was occurring she did not know. Looking toward the mines just a few houses away she could not believe what she saw. What appeared like a mushroom cloud at the mouth of the mine, the smoke and steam rose quickly and brilliantly, almost knocking the girls to the ground. Standing at her kitchen window looking out, Vivian's mother Nora felt the same tremor her daughter did. Knowing full well the damage of a mine collapse or a bump can do her first thought was with her little girl.

The whole event was surreal to the young blonde girl. Hearing her name being hollered, she turned to see her panicked mother running toward her, seconds after the explosion in the mine, that turned Springhill nearly upside down. Frozen with fear, the little girl just stood motionless waiting for her mother to rescue her. As Nora Gillis made her way through the falling debris, burning pieces of tin were crashing to the ground all around her.

Taking the girl by the hand, she told her to hurry and the two of them ran down the road together. Nora knew there would be safety at her own mother's house. By this time everyone had come out into the street. Most of them were unsure of what had happened but a few men, especially those whose lives revolved around the mine, knew this meant serious trouble.

As the dense smell of smoke and ash filled the air, the picturesque town of Springhill was engulfed in a nasty blanket of toxic and lethal gas. Mothers rushed their children inside as the sirens were screaming loudly around them. Men were running down the street toward the mines to see who was alive and who was not. Immediately some miners came running out of the smoke and debris and gave word that the boom came from collier #4. Men were dead and dying. The people of Springhill came together as one and without a whisper of doubt, began to work to save the men of the deep dark mines.

Never did it occur to Vivian Gillis that her father might be hurt or killed. Angus Gillis at 52 years of age should have long retired from the mine but like all of the men at that time, it was his life's work. He set off for work that day just like every other, not realizing that the events that would follow would change his life forever. Dynamite always made Angus nervous but it was one of many hazards he faced as a coal miner, just like breathing in the coal dust, the dangers involved with the train cars and with the picks and shovels. This were something he accepted in stride.

It is said that when one is directly involved in any kind of an explosion that the whole situation is so surreal that, quite often, their memory is erased. That's exactly what happened to Angus and the men who worked beside him. A warm tingly sensation trickled up his left arm and as he looked down toward his wrist, heard a small puffing sound and saw a bright flash of light. Within seconds, his body was airlifted, almost weightless and he floated head over heels through space. A few more seconds passed and he found himself lying face down in the rubble and dust. Black. Dark. Cold.

There were a few cries for help as Angus shook his head, he could clearly hear them. It became obvious that the mine had collapsed around him, leaving only a 3 foot tall crawl space. For a moment it occurred to him that his own death was near, after all they were as far down as one could go. Trapped in the mine, so many feet below the surface, he literally could not see his hand in front of his face. Was he blinded by the blast? He did not know for sure. This was the kind of darkness that he could only ever imagine. Covered in blood, dry from the dust, and aching and paining in his chest and back, there was little else he could do but lie there and call out to anyone who might hear a pipe with flowing moderately fresh air was his life line.

As a Catholic family, prayer played a big role in their lives, both above and below ground. As Vivian sat beside her mother at St John's Catholic Church praying for the safe return of her father and his friends, Angus's thoughts drifted toward God as well. He thought about the day he got married in 1937 and how he was able to look out into the faces of his family, especially his mother. He thought about his children's baptisms, walking Vivian to Sunday school, and his own parents Dan & Franny Gillis. He knew deep inside that God was even closer to him now more than ever. They all did. That's why the hymns were sung by the remaining miners. Sitting in their own excrement and slowly starving to death, the days crawled by. Would someone save them? Would they ever see the light of day again? Would ever stare into the face of his wife and daughter again? This prison of darkness and silence was his judge now. He remained quiet, exhausted from the whole ordeal, dozing in and out of consciousness. What was thought to a trickle of water on his hand tasted like blood. Life sustaining blood. We will wait.

For a few days Nora and Vivian stayed at Nanny Phalen's. Friends and relatives were constantly coming and going from house to house, dropping of and picking up supplies and thermoses and food for those who were diligently working on the rescue of the broken and beaten miners. Media flooded the town and the world was introduced for the first time to the small town of Springhill, Nova Scotia.

Family, like Angus's sisters Francess Gillis, and Mary Soppa, his niece Vivian Canton, whom he named his baby girl after, fully pregnant and living in Amherst, gathered together at the old homestead, serving and working and praying. Giving up was not an option. No one knew that more than Nora Phalen Gillis, his wife. Never! One must never give up!

There is an indescribable feeling when a person finally sees the light, literally. Angus Gillis first saw the bright and overwhelming ray of light brought to him by a pick axe cutting through stone. His tears of relief were welcome and embraced by those whose hard work and resilience has paid off. >From 6000 feet below the surface to the top was a trip he would never forget.

Reunited with his family when so many of his peers weren't lucky enough to survive, Angus Gillis was truly grateful for all his blessings. It took a long time to recover from the after effects of the blast. Quite often he would take a walk down by the mines only to return filled with anxiety. The 39 friends and co-workers that died left an indelible mark on him. A changed man where the mines were concerned it took months and months to fully recover, if he ever really did.

The Number 4 Colliery never reopened. The men who lost their jobs were promised work in the Number 2. Some took the jobs and others didn't. Angus went back to work like any decent man would do for his family and he continued working until the Underground Bump of 1958 when it was decided that the mines would permanently close. He might have been one of the ones killed in that Bump had he not worked the opposite shift. Angus Gillis had seen a lot in his life. He grew up during the First World War, suffered though the Depression, fought in the second World War leaving behind a wife and small son. He said goodbye to his parents, lost brothers to the ravages of the coal mining life and yet there still seemed so much to be grateful for.

Of all the things that young Vivian knew there was something she realized during this tragic time that perhaps she never fully understood, and that is the true meaning of resilience and tenacity. It did not take her long to see that she was a part of a very big picture. Her family, especially the women played just as big a role in the coal mining industry as the men did. They all stood to lose as much as the men did. As she stood along side these fascinating women she soon realized that she was one of them as well. Vivian watched the town, her town come together in a time of tragedy and despair, and how proud it made her feel inside.

Coal Mining in Nova Scotia, a hard old life. It took it's toll on so many families, those above and below ground. In 1964 Angus Gillis, like so many other valiant and courageous men of the deep mines said goodbye to his loving Nora, son Sam and a young Vivian Gillis whose was his very heart and soul.

The Color of Coal

It seems that of all the stories that I have written about my beloved family, the Gillis's, I have certainly taken the time to glamorize their battles in life of the coal mine. I can't help it, I think that theirs was a romantic and quite a desperate time. I love them all and I think that if I take the time to remember and acknowledge them, then I know that I would have made my mother proud, and GOD knows that's all I ever wanted to achieve as a human being on this Earth.

What I want to know as a human being is why did my people choose such a dirty and disgusting life like that of the dusty coal mines?. Was it the only jobs available? Death was surely imminent and yet so many of those men chose that life......for what in the end, I am at least allowed to ask.

Okay, so I talked about the men below the ground and I talked about the women above the ground and how both battled the coal mines in different and yet similar ways, there was always something to be lost.

Then it was brought to my attention that those who were chosen to work in the mines were the best at what they did. They were the true experts and who on earth wouldn't hire them? After all, it was a dirty job and some one had to do it, right? So, off they went, the Gillis's, the Rushton's and the Ruddick's and the rest of the hardworking gang that brought the much needed coal to the surface so we all could have warm and cozy homes, hot food on the stove and a worn and beaten father at our table. Who could ask for more? I did!

I am constantly amazed at the stories of resilience and tenacity where these very down to earth people were concerned. Not one's to carry any aires about themselves. They simply tackled the task at hand and did the job that needed to be done. I was proud to learn that giving up was not an option. You just kept going along, working, eating, living and dying. And for what I ask in the end, to leave a lonely widow and a grieving family behind? Sad when one really thinks about it.

After being directly involved in a mine collapse or an explosion, or both, the way a man thinks begins to change. His outlook on life is included in this change and he leans closer to God more than ever. This man, whether he be black or white, gentile or jew, knows no color in the mine. They are all, after all, a human being.

So then one day, a gentle father looks across his dinner table to his lovely wife and into the faces of his children, and he sees something that he never noticed before. Innocence. He comes to the realization that throughout his whole hardworking life, he just seemed to get old before his time. Did he want the same for his sons? Did he want his daughters to marry men who were tired and sick at the end of the workweek? There had to be a better life out there. So with a little encouragement on his part, the idea was planted that it was a big world out there and maybe they should be given the chance to see some of it.

When the Springhill Mine Explosion happened in 1956, the whole world watched to see the outcome. They were introduced to the gentle people of Springhill and to the sense of community spirit that existed there. When the final group of men were brought to the surface, there they were, black faced, broken and beaten men. Each received their own bit of fame from their part in the disaster . Songs were written about them, stories told, and legends were born. But, when the coal dust was wiped away and the bruises and cuts were healed, they, those brave men, those brothers in time of tragedy, were forced to resume their social roles. The blacks went back to their own poor community and the whites and others, to their's. Life above ground has always had it's upsides and downs, but life goes on and as we all heal from the damage done to our families from the mine disasters, let us not ever forget these brave and valiant men, who from all communities, worked so hard to bring the valuable coal home to us, their families.

Todd Canton, Dan Gillis's grandson, and Vivian Gillis's son.

2006