Black Gold tells the harrowing real-life horror that happened on what should have been a normal day's shift for forty-seven miners.
Through the eyes of the ones who were there the book caresses the hearts of the people in the know: the survivors and the survived family members and friends.
We get a first-hand account of what it was like to suddenly wake up to one of the biggest mining disasters ever to have hit Scotland .
Recollections from young and old; who have their very own memories of September 18th 1959.
The book is a memorial-based works dedicating the forty-seven miners who perished.
Tom Whiteside:
I was almost four-years-old on 18 September 1959. My father, Tom Stokes, was a miner at Auchengeich.
We lived in Gartferry Road , Bridgend which was a few hundred yards from the pit.
I remember a man coming to our front door that morning and my mum rushed off with him. I remember seeing a trail of black smoke in the sky and there were lots of people around, outside in the road and people hurrying up towards the pit.
At some point during the morning my brother and me were collected by our gran and we joined loads of other wives and daughters up at the pithead. Everyone was just waiting but I had no idea what for. Being so young I just sat on the ground playing in a muddy puddle. Some people were giving out tea and I remember there was a Priest speaking to the women.
My uncle, John Rafferty, was one of the rescue team and I remember him coming over to speak to my mum and his big work boots were actually smoking, they were so hot.
I don't remember anyone crying or being hysterical, it was all weirdly calm. When the rescue operation was called off in the evening, we were already back at my gran's house.
I remember the funeral some time later; rows of coffins going past the houses in Gartferry Road . Then we all moved away and life changed forever.
My father died aged 32 and left a wife and three sons; one of whom was just a tiny baby. Many years later my gran gave us newspaper cuttings of the day of the disaster and I can see myself sitting on the ground by the womens' feet.
Isobel (Green) Wharrie
On the day of the disaster I was at Clifton High School, Coatbridge . During the dinner break I was down the street when I spotted a poster on a news stand outside the newsagents which said: “Lanarkshire Pit Disaster”. A Shiver went through me but I thought it couldn't be Auchengeich where my dad and brother worked. I gave it no more thought and continued on with my day.
On my way home from school around 4pm I got off the bus to go and collect my grandfather's shopping when I was approached by someone telling me to go straight home as both my dad and my brother were dead. I was frightened of even thinking of going home to face my mother if this was true. I headed straight for my grandfather's house. It was when I got there that my Uncle Sam Green, who himself was supposed to have been working down the pit that day but taken the day off, told me that they - being my dad and brother - were alive. My brother had not yet gone into the pit when the alarm sounded trouble down below.
My dad had been brought up alive. After what I had been told I didn't believe him at first, by this time I was hysterical. My uncle then walked me home and all I can mind about that was the amount of people standing around with cameras and notebooks. They were all trying to get into my house with me when I entered. I then raced upstairs to see for myself that my dad was alive. It was such a relief to know that they were there talking to me after I had been told that they were dead. I was fourteen-years-old at this time and probably knew a lot more of my father's friends but the two names that stick in my head are Pete McMillan and wee Jimmy Devine who along with his family were regular visitors to our family home.
Isobel (Green) Wharrie aged 14 at the time of the disaster.
Samual Barr
On 18 September, 1959, I was 29-years-old, and a roadsman at Auchengeich.
I remember it was a pay day. I had started my morning shift in the square pit, travelling down in the bogies with Geordie Prentiss (Prentice?). We were waiting underground for the work to start and nothing was happening; there was no haulage or hutches. I went to see if I could find out what was happening. I was told that there had been a fire in the round pit. There was a series of doors between the two shafts and I was taken through to see into the round pit. All I could see was smoke in the shaft. Eventually we were allowed to return to the surface, where we finally learnt what had happened. It was devastating. I remember that the Salvation Army were among the first on the scene, setting up a soup kitchen for the rescuers and those who were waiting for news.
It was two days before my first wedding anniversary. My wife, Nessie (Agnes nee Florence ) was pregnant with our first child. We had tickets to the theatre for the following evening. We gave them away.
Jean Jaap nee Skilling
Daughter of William Skilling
I remember getting wakened up by my mother and she said there had been an accident at the pit my dad worked in.
My mum went across the road to see if Mr Connelly or My Cowan had seen my dad but they hadn't seen him and my mum said, “Your dad will probably be helping.”
But as the day went on there was still no news of my dad and I was sent to Burnbank, Hamilton to get my dad's sister and when she came to the door she said, “I bet it's our Wullie.” But anyway she came back home to my mum's house with me and we waited for news of my dad.
It was later at night when the Salvation Army people came to tell us that my dad was one of the men that were missing. It really was terrible hearing those words and then the photographers came to the door to get photos of my dad, but they were hunted away from our door by friends and neighbours. It was three days later when we found out what had happened and my oldest brother had to go and identify my dad. I can remember him coming back; he was in a terrible state as we all were.
My father had been sick all week and had decided that morning that he was well enough to work and I can remember my mum saying to my dad, “Don't go, it's only one shift.” But my dad said, “It will pay the rent.” That's what kind of man my dad was. He was a great dad. I was 21-years-old at the time.
James McPhee
On that awful day, 18th September 1959, I received a telephone call at work from my wife to tell me of the disaster at Auchengeich pit, where my father, James McPhee, worked as a shotfirer.
When I arrived at my parent's home; my uncles, dad's brothers, had already been to the pit and confirmed that dad was one of the men who had been killed. My brother and I never saw dad's body after the disaster because his brothers identified him and advised us to remember him as we last saw him, which was kindly, since he was not dad as we had known him.
My mother and the family were in shock. At the age of 54 our dad had been killed in one of the worst mining disasters. My mother was now a widow, we were left without a father, and our little children, whom he loved so much, were left without Grandpa.
My dad was a lover of the works of Robert Burns and was often called upon to 'address the haggis' at Burn's Suppers. He was cheerful and articulate, well thought of by all who knew him.
He was sorely missed.
Joseph Milligan
In 1959 I was living in the miners' rows at 1 East Gartferry Road , Bridgend.
My house was the first one in Bridgend and was nearest to the Auchengeich pit entrance. It was just across the road from the Miners' Welfare and the shops which served the village.
I had previously worked in Auchingeich from 1942 until 1946 but from then I had worked at Bedlay Colliery near Glenboig.
On 18th September 1959, although I was on the back shift, I was up and about early. It was a nice bright morning. My wife was getting my five-year-old son ready for school. He attended Bridgend Primary School which was just a few hundred yards along the road from the village.
At one point, maybe around 8.00 am, my wife said that there were a lot of people standing across the road near to the Welfare and the shops. I went outside and asked someone what was happening. They told me that something had happened over at the pit and that some men were trapped underground. I knew that my father, Duncan Milligan, and his brother, my Uncle Joe, were probably working in the pit on the day shift so I was concerned enough to go straight over to the colliery.
When I got over to the pit I seem to recall that it did not appear to be too busy at that point. Certainly I do not remember many people being about.
I went straight to the lamp cabin and spoke to the lampman whom I knew but whose name I have forgotten. He told me that there was a fire underground in the Round Pit and that some miners were trapped. He also told me that other men were waiting at the pit head to see if they could go down and mount a rescue. The lampman knew that my father was underground and he did not refuse my request for a helmet and lamp. I learned later on that my Uncle Joe was off that day and was not underground.
I went straight from the lamp cabin to the pit head. There were other men there who were ready to go underground.
Just at that point I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the pit manager, Mr. Smellie. He basically asked where I was going.
I told him that I was trying to get down the pit because by dad and uncle were down there. He asked their names and was able to tell me that my father was down in the Square Pit (non-disaster mine) and that my uncle was not down the pit at all.
He then asked me if I worked at Auchingeich. I told him that I had worked there years ago although I was now working in Bedlay.
He basically told me that it was more than his job was worth to let me go down the mine. He told me to go down the stairs, return my helmet and lamp and go home.
I returned the helmet and lamp but did not go home. I definitely wanted to find out that my father was safe.
Whilst I was waiting at the pit it began to get busy. The Mines' Rescue came from Coatbridge . Soon the press and television arrived. I also remember the Salvation Army being there.
Very quickly people realize the seriousness of the incident. News spread that the men who had been trapped underground were almost certainly dead having been overcome. At that point, however, nobody knew how many men were actually involved. It was only later on that day that we eventually learned that 47 of our comrades had died. I was shocked as were all who were there at the time.
I knew personally a lot of the men who died, and their families, because they lived beside me in Bridgend and in the surrounding villages.
I am now 85 and had worked in the pits for 40-years. This was easily the worst incident in the Scottish coalfields during my time in the mining industry.
More contributors' excerpts from the book and a sneak inside Black Gold following shortly...
