1949: Tracking the Underground Pony Express
Herds of ponies once roamed Maryland, though they were rarely seen my most people. They were mining ponies whose job it was to haul the coal from Maryland’s coal mines. In one instance, Ray O’Rourke wrote for the Baltimore Sunday Sun Magazine, “Twenty-odd ponies that haul coal from under some 2,000 acres of Maryland territory are never seen in this State, and never breathe the air over it.” These ponies hauled coal for the Stanley Coal Company in Crellin, Maryland. Though the mine was under Maryland, the entrance was in nearby West Virginia. Miners had to walk from Crellin across the state line and then backtrack once they were in the mine. The mine’s location also created some political headaches with Maryland and West Virginia governments fighting for the tax revenue from the mine. Eventually a compromise was reached where Read more…
Embarrassed wife has doctor killed in 1851
It’s been said that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Such fury cost Oakland, Md., its first doctor. When Dr. John Conn stepped off the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad train in 1851, he was a pioneer. Oakland hadn’t yet been incorporated as a town and the region was still frontier for Maryland. The town only had a few hundred citizens and they needed a doctor. The next-closest doctor was Dr. John H. Patterson in Grantsville, Md. To get there and back to Oakland would have taken a full day. Conn set up his office at Second and Oak streets where it quickly flourished. “In the days before the convenience of a well-stocked pharmacy, it was said that the ‘young doctor’ either had on hand the correct medication, or could prescribe a suitable home remedy Read more…
Saving Shallmar: Christmas Spirit in Coal Town
If you’re looking for a great Christmas gift, consider getting a copy of my latest book, Saving Shallmar: Christmas Spirit in a Coal Town. It’s a true story that will also give you a picture of what living in a coal company town was like in the mid-20th Century. In fall turned to winter in 1949, the residents of Shallmar, Maryland, were starving. The town’s only business, the Wolf Den Coal Corp. had closed down, unemployment benefits ended and few people had cars to drive to other jobs. When children started fainting in school, Principal J. Paul Andrick realized the dire situation the town was in and set out to help. He set out to try and get help for the town’s residents and succeeded beyone his wildest dreams just in time for Christmas. You can order a copy here.
Who is “Genl. Scofield”?
As the country remembers the men who fought in the Civil War 150 years ago, a general lies forgotten in a grave atop Meadow Mountain just off of old U.S. Route 40. The only clue to who this man was is a grave marker that answers few questions and raises more. In Memory of Genl. Scofield Civil War Veteran Killed on this Mountain 1894 Donated by A.J. Irwin & Son For years, Marie Lancaster of Addison, Pa., cared for the grave making sure the grave was trimmed and occasionally bringing flowers or a U.S. flag to leave by the marker. “We just saw the grave while we were taking a Sunday drive and, after looking at it up close, my husband and I were of the opinion that a high-ranking military man like Gen. Scofield deserved a more prominent burial Read more…
How coal miners showed their toughness
Ever wonder how a disabled person got by before Social Security, disability and all those other programs? Well, if they were coal miners, they found a way to work. Here are some of the coal miners from Maryland and West Virginia who worked because they needed to do. They come from the unpublished memoirs of a miner named Kenny Bray. John Schooly had been crippled by polio and was only able to walk with the aid of crutches. Schooly actually had two sets of crutches; one was normal length and the second pair was only three feet long. He used the short crutches to drag himself through the mine headings to the face of the mine. When he got there, he braced his hands on the rails and pushed the coal cars into place with his shoulder. Then he would Read more…
Embarrassed wife has Oakland’s first doctor executed
It’s been said that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Such fury cost Oakland its first doctor. When Dr. John Conn stepped off the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad train in 1851, he was a pioneer. Oakland hadn’t yet been incorporated as a town and the region was still frontier for Maryland. The town only had a few hundred citizens and they needed a doctor. The next-closest doctor was Dr. John H. Patterson in Grantsville. To get there and back to Oakland would have taken a full day. Conn set up his office at Second and Oak streets where it quickly flourished. “In the days before the convenience of a well-stocked pharmacy, it was said that the ‘young doctor’ either had on hand the correct medication, or could prescribe a suitable home remedy for any attack of ague or Read more…
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