‘I owe my soul to the company store’
Part 1 of 4 | Part 2 of 4 | Part 3 of 4 | Part 4 of 4
Editor’s note: This is the fourth and final installment about the hard-working coal miners and their families who once populated the Robinson community of Moon Run. Written by retired teacher and Robinson Township Historical Society Correspondent Janet Gonter, the series is said to have a special place in her heart and ours.
The imposing frame building in Moon Run known as the Pittsburgh Coal Company Store was much more than a store. It was the post office, a meeting place where people not only picked up their mail but exchanged the latest gossip. On Sunday, it housed two churches –one Protestant, one Catholic. The basement held the town jail with its own stories to tell. The company store was all these things and more, but it also had a darker side. It was a bottomless money pit for miners and their families.
Trips to the store were a daily necessity for most wives because with no refrigeration, food spoiled quickly, and what they could afford to buy was extremely limited. Many decades ago, a woman who grew up in the patch remembered, “To me, the company store was the biggest building I ever saw, filled with candy bars, Eskimo Pies, 5-cent chocolate cakes and other goodies we couldn’t afford.” Shoppers did a lot of looking but very little buying.
Miners’ families were obliged to buy everything from the company store because workers were paid in “scrip” instead of a paycheck, and it was only good at that one store. Valentine Gaspari – who later changed the spelling to Gaspare – and his new wife Bella began their married life in the “Hogs Hollow” section of Moon Run. According to their account in the Historical Society archives, “The company store took back all of the earnings they paid their workers by selling them food and clothing, also making a profit on that.”
“We always owed the company store money. My husband once went three years without getting a penny in his paycheck.”
Besides food staples and other necessities like shoes, clothing and furniture, the store also sold every type of mining equipment (picks, shovels, headlamps, explosives), which the miners had to purchase for their work because nothing was supplied for them by their employer. Before a miner could draw any pay, the company store bill and rent for their company-owned house were automatically deducted. For most miners and their families, those deductions not only took all of their pay, but added to their ever-growing debt. Many of them never managed to climb out of the hole.
Said one wife in the 1930s, “We always owed the company store money. My husband once went three years without getting a penny in his paycheck.” Eventually the mine workers’ union and mechanization brought much-needed improvements, but sadly not until after the Moon Run Mines had permanently shut down in 1939.
In the 1950s, singer Tennessee Ernie Ford had a hit record titled “Sixteen Tons.” Many remember the song, but few truly understand its irony.
You load sixteen tons and what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt.
Saint Peter dontcha call me ‘cause I can’t go,
I owe my soul to the company store.
+ + +
1897: United Mine Workers of America bring reform; ensuing strikes in Moon Run fail to deliver
The coal miners’ union arose from great needs in the 1800s. Moon Run miners had been doing back-breaking work in deplorable conditions for practically no pay. The mining companies owned their meager houses, sold them overpriced food and clothing at the company store and paid them in “scrip” that was only good at that store. Miners were even responsible for buying all their own equipment – from dynamite to headlamps – again, from the company store. In short, the company owned it all, including the miners.
In 1897, the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA) brought some much-needed reform. The work day was set at eight hours, and wages were raised to a more reasonable scale, around $7.50 per day.
During World War I, when demand for coal was at its peak, the UMWA held much power. But after the war ended, demand plummeted and coal companies instituted wage cuts of 20-30%. Infuriated, the UMWA called a strike in 1922. Mine owners responded by bringing in strike breakers – “scabs” – who were willing to work for far less. They also hired the Coal and Iron Police (CIP), who were basically armed thugs hired by management to decimate the union. The strike failed.
On Sept. 7, 1927, two strike breakers were shot and killed while walking from Moon Run to McKees Rocks. About the same time, two CIP beat a union miner to death with a poker.
In Moon Run, union miners were evicted from their company houses and forced to build shanties or barracks. The CIP harassed them incessantly. In a 1992 interview, Robinson native Frank Deyak had childhood memories of the Coal and Iron Police threatening miners with iron clubs. He later learned that union members were often subject to brutal beatings or far worse.
When the Moon Run Mine owners announced in 1926 that the mine would be operated as an open (non-union) shop, another strike quickly ensued – this time far more violent. On Sept. 7, 1927, two strike breakers were shot and killed while walking from Moon Run to McKees Rocks. About the same time, two CIP beat a union miner to death with a poker. Again, the strike failed, and beaten-down miners were forced to accept the company’s meager offer. The CIP’s commissions were allowed to expire in 1931.
Judge, politician and Stowe Township native Michael A. Musmanno’s hard-hitting film-turned novel, “Black Fury,” brought wider attention to the unspeakable brutality brought by this state-sanctioned private police force. The novel was developed from the 1935 movie script of the same name.
By the mid-1930s, with guaranteed collective bargaining, things were finally getting better for the miners. But sadly, the Moon Run Mine was nearly depleted, and by 1938, it had closed permanently.
Gone was the poverty, the bitter anger and the violence. But gone, too, were the close-knit ethnic neighborhoods, the busy four-room schoolhouse and the company houses bursting at the seams with so many children.
Soon the Moon Run coal patch was gone. It was the end of an era.
Be First to Comment