Woodcutter's Revival (6 page)

As he dug and removed the small debris, he could see a pick and bigger tools were needed. He enlisted another participant from the debris brigade to dig, while he looked for some bigger tools. Everybody else seemed to know what to do and worked quickly and without speaking. There was no time to wonder if their efforts would be futile. Most offered silent prayer while they worked.

They had to hope the two miners were alive, had enough air and had been in a secure place when the slide occurred. They worked for at least an hour, which seemed like an eternity. The slide did not appear to extend inside as it appeared from outside. As they inched their way into the dust and rock-filled shaft, there was some room near the top of the shaft where debris had not lodged into the top shelf. The small space extended several feet of the length of the shaft and all the way across.

Finally, about fifteen feet into the shaft, they reached a space where the slide began to diminish. It seemed they had dug through the greatest concentration of the debris and were now beginning to dig away from the center of the collapse. One of the rescuers shined a light through a small opening at the top of the slide. He could barely see two faces covered with dust. The only way he could perceive the faces was the whites of the eyes and teeth reflected in the light. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. We were in deeper, but the slide blocked us off here. We felt our way back to the back of the pile.”

“Thank God!” Raymond exclaimed.

Soon, the debris was cleared enough for the two miners to squeeze their way out. They were hugged by their fellow miners in great celebration. As the rescue party moved out of the tunnel mouth and into the clean air, most of the town's people, who had assembled outside the shaft, let out a collective shout of joy and relief.

Mr. Peters noticed Mr. Thomas standing at the back of the crowd watching the situation. When the celebrating was finished, Mr. Peters announced, “It's closed for the day. Go home and get some rest.”

As the rest of the people slowly found their way down the side of the embankment and into town, Mr. Peters increased the speed of his stride in proportion to the increase in his indignation. His anger came near to a boiling point as he stormed into the mine office. The clerk behind the desk could only look with amazement as he detected the rage Mr. Peters was exhibiting. He did not even bother to ask Mr. Peters if he could help. He knew Mr. Peters would find his own way into Mr. Thomas's office as he had in the past.

Mr. Thomas was talking to the Reverend Pharris. They both looked slightly shocked at the expression on Mr. Peter's face. “I told you this would happen. The time and money we saved by shoring at ten feet rather than six is going to get somebody killed.”

In the past, he had attempted to appeal to Mr. Thomas's logic, by saying the gains made in less shoring would cost in down time and injury. Today, with the near loss of two lives, he was beyond logic and sugar-coating the truth. Mr. Thomas, attempting to diffuse the situation and appear to remain in control, in the presence of Reverend Pharris, replied, ‘We can discuss this later.”

“Unless you get those problems corrected and these tunnels safe, there will be no next time for me.”

Now, Mr. Thomas, no longer able to posture composure, exploded, “Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”

Mr. Peters shouted back, as he stormed out of the office, “Fine, I will be out by the weekend.”

Mr. Thomas turned red with rage. He was not used to having anybody tell him the way things would be. He did not like it! Reverend Pharris did not know what to do to break the tension. He finally said, “Edward, have you done all you could to ensure the safety of the miners?”

“Listen, Preacher, this is my town. The only thing I don't own is the church, but we both know who supports it. You take care of their social needs and I will take care of the rest.”

“I understand. I know you contribute more than the rest combined. I will be on my way now. Oh yes, may um…, may God bless you.”

The next morning Edward and Victoria were in the office very early. “Father, how could you let Mr. Peters walk out? He was a very valuable employee and a leader”

“Nobody is irreplaceable.”

“No, but they all respected him.”

“They respect me!”

“Father, they fear you. How far would they follow you because of fear? They would have followed him to their death. It is not respect when people do what you say because you have power over them.”

Mr. Thomas growled under his breath in exasperation, “Ugh, do you ever remind me of your mother! Nobody crosses me and stays here. It is my way or the railway. Young lady, I would not let you stand there and talk to me this way if you weren't my daughter.”

Victoria knew she was the only person who could reason with him. She also knew she was reaching the limit of where she could press the issue. Simply because she was able to express her view did not mean her words would be heeded or even considered. She was beginning to question that if he was so strong, why was he so afraid of allowing anybody to break through his veneer. She was also beginning to understand that actions postured as self-respect were actually attempts to gain or convince himself of respect by dominating others.

Victoria began to reintroduce reality into the situation, “Enough of worrying about what happened. We need to consider what we are going to do. Since people respected Mr. Peters, we will have to be careful what we say and what steps we take to replace him.”

Mr. Thomas interjected, “If we try to use one of his friends, they will undoubtedly know the alleged problems he has discussed with them. We need to bring someone in who is intelligent but unaware of the way things operate, naive.”

“You mean someone you can control?”

“I was thinking more in the lines of someone we could train into our way of thinking and mold him into a leader.”

Victoria had never seen Edward perplexed like he was today. She had a sudden realization of fear that the man she most admired in her life might have strongly different ways of thinking about how people ought to be treated than she had. “But, who could we find, Father?”

They both thought of the same person, but were reluctant to offer their thoughts for fear of what the other might say. Their motives varied, also. Mr. Thomas thought a young, well-read man, with work experience, in what might be considered a family business, might be easier to control and shape into his own image than one of the local people.

He had not spent any extra money educating these people for more than just the expense. Oh, he provided a school, but that was more to indoctrinate than to educate. He feared that the more people were educated the less they tended to be controllable. He had justified this belief by referencing that Fredrick Douglass, a slave who broke the law by educating himself and becoming a writer and orator was able to get the anti-slavery message out.

Victoria's choice reflected the belief that the young man might have some potential – maybe personally and professionally. She justified her position by stating, “Did you notice how that, I think his name was Raymond, took charge and kept a cool head in the emergency?”

Edward said, “There is one other problem we have to discuss.”

“What is that?”

“Apparently, and coincidentally, our school teacher, Kimberly Knox has given notice. I never would have guessed she would leave when Mr. Peters left,” Edward said as he gave Victoria an overly dramatic wink of the eye.

“Well, she was only renewed with reservations last year. We were going to have to dismiss her this year anyway. She signed on last August, but did not report to work until two weeks before Thanksgiving. She was warned several times about being considered the town gossip by sharing confidential information about students and their families. She was like Mr. Gradgrind in Dickens's novel,
Hard Times
. She thought she could reduce education to a mathematical equation. She thought she could convey all facts without appealing the emotion of the learner. What was her reason?”

Mr. Thomas replied, “She says she is going to take an administrative position down at South West School of Education. She will be leading a faculty of seventeen teachers and professors. How would you like to work for her?”

“Not if she leads the way she taught. Besides, I think we are talking more about controlling and managing the faculty, not leading them. You have to know something about education and learning to lead other teachers,” Victoria said.

At breakfast, Daryl came down in his traveling clothes. Raymond asked, “Are you going to work in those today?”

“No, I am on the ten fifty-five out of here. I cannot go back into that grave with only one open end.”

“I wish I could convince you to stay.”

“No, I have been thinking about this since we got here. I have to go. I wish you and…the others all the best.”

Raymond finished breakfast quietly and shook Daryl's hand as he left for work. He said, “Thanks for going through the mountains with me. I will see you when I get to Wellspring.”

Daryl offered a doubtful grin and said, “Good bye.”

The miners finished the week on a status-quo basis. There were several rumors about what happened to Mr. Peters, but no official word. People who knew what happened were not talking, at least not publicly.

On Monday, as Raymond reported to work, there was a note that directed him to go to the office to talk to Mr. Thomas. He recognized the writing on the note and beamed. As he headed toward the office, his joy turned into apprehension. They had probably decided they did not need his services any more. That would be fine. This was the week in which he planned to leave any way. He had not saved enough for train fare. How much would they pay him for the time he has already worked? Would he have to walk to Wellspring? If he had to walk down, did he have enough to buy supplies? “I wish we were paid in real money or actual value in silver rather than these stupid tokens. With this much time passing and the walk down, how would I find Stewart?”

Upon entering the office, the clerk told him Mr. Thomas would be right with him. The door to Mr. Thomas's office was standing open and as soon as he saw Raymond, he said, “Come on in.”

Victoria was in the office and Mr. Thomas closed the door. ‘Raymond, we have been noticing your performance.”

“I can explain. It was an emergency. I acted out of instinct. I can learn more.”

As he defended himself, Raymond began to realize that he really wanted to continue working in the mines. At least, if he was leaving, he wanted it to be his choice, not somebody else's.

“Oh, you misunderstood,” laughed Mr. Thomas. “Mr. Peters is no longer with the company. We thought we might train you to work in the position of foreman.”

“Thank you for the compliment, but I am not really qualified.”

“Oh, don't be modest. You have worked all your life in a family operation. That is what we want you to do for us. Help us run our family mines. Like I said, we will give you all the training and support you need.”

“But, there is so much to learn. I don't know if they will accept me.”

Victoria responded, with almost mechanical repetition of a phrase she had heard her father repeat, “With no risk, there is no courage. Without adversity there are no heroes.”

Then she brightened, almost as if she had a sudden revelation, “Besides, I hear you acted heroically, during the aftermath of the cave-in.”

These words from anybody else would have seemed cliché. Raymond knew he had only acted logically and found something that would speed the rescue. From Victoria the words shot straight into Raymond's heart, overriding any logic or defense he had considered. The words acted as a magic elixir, bolstering any real courage he lacked.

Victoria, below the conscious level, in the deepest recesses of her mind, might have been subconsciously seeking a new hero.

Chapter Six

M
ichael appeared to be enjoying his time of recovery. Stewart's cooking was improving and he was able to keep ahead of the food supply and the daily tasks necessary for survival. There was collecting water from the stream, splitting and stacking wood, tending the fire, cooking and cleaning. Michael was beginning to get rested so he was awake more hours a day than Stewart. The time they both cherished most was when all the activities were completed and they had some occasion to talk. Michael never wasted time on small talk. Stewart almost felt as if Michael already knew everything about him without having to reveal many facts.

Michael seemed to have boiled down the elements of life to the essence. He had so much time to think, read, and pray without a lot of distractions. He had even tried his hand at writing. He was a patient man and had mellowed with age. As he grew older, he also came to the realization that time grew shorter each day and there was no retrieving any lost hours, days or years.

He was not afraid to cut to the quick in conversation. If a statement was made without much prior thought or one that might have required a further exploration of facts, he would ask direct questions. Stewart wondered if it would be this way back down in the flat lands or if he and Michael found themselves in “normal” circumstances.

Michaels' philosophical challenges could make you rethink your position without causing you to feel like a fool. Stewart remembered his gramps saying, “Small people talk about people. Average people talk about things. Great people express ideas.”

By those standards, Michael was the embodiment of intellectual greatness. Stewart considered what an unfortunate situation it was for all this knowledge and wisdom to be locked in this cabin with no way of sharing it with mankind. Stewart hoped, later after some schooling and more life experiences, he would dedicate himself to expressing the growth and insight he had experienced while on this mountain. Maybe he would write.

“Michael, do you ever think about death?”

“I would rather think about life. We all will face death. There is no sense in reducing the quality of life worrying about the inevitable.”

“Do you ever regret about the time you have been isolated and away from,” Stewart fumbled for words, “life?”

“By life, do you mean the way most people live?”

“Yeah, I guess so. That, and being around others with whom to share your experience.”

“I feel I have drawn closer to life. When you are around other people, you need to think their thoughts and believe their ideas as your own. You accept the way most people do things as ‘normal.' Normalcy is dictated by trends in style, convenience, preference or necessity.

“No, I do not feel the years I have spent up here have been wasted. To find what life is really about we must decide what is important. It is very difficult to prioritize your values in the flowing and changing current of society. If you have a chance to get away from the attainment of wealth, getting ahead and being successful for long enough, you realize these goals were not that important. When you realize what is really important, you have a changed perspective.”

“What is really important?” inquired Stewart.

“As you grow older, you find only things that really matter are those things you cannot accumulate, but conversely the things nobody can take from you. The only way I can explain is through a story. Have you ever ridden on a train?”

“Yes, we used to ride the train to visit relatives back east. We would get on one day, ride for about two days and arrive at the station a few hours from their house.”

Michael smiled and continued, “Most people ride the train just like they live life and do about anything else. They just get on and later, they are where they think they are supposed to be. Those tracks did not just grow there in the wilderness. When the first track came through, I was about your age. There was a need for ties for the roadways to support the tracks. The railroad used to contract the work so they wouldn't have to buy the wood and cut it. Instead, local people with stands of timber on their property would cut the lumber, saw it to dimension and deliver it to the proper location along the track constructions sites.

“Farming was progressing well enough and we had a stand of trees on the place, so I was able to make some spending money by selling ties to the railroad. That was where I first learned the lesson – everything of value has a price, but not all things that are high priced have value.

“During construction, trestles had to be built over the river ways and connecting mountain passes. Tunnels had to be blasted through solid rock. The work was dangerous. Conditions were rugged and bleak. Several workers lost their lives. Most of them aged more than if they stayed in the comfort of their homes. Those who were on the road the longest were away from family and loved ones.

“Someone got the idea to import Chinese workers as they were skilled in the use of black powder. The railroad people had to convince the workers that the benefits of life in America outweighed the sacrifice and risk. That is for the workers who were brought here on their own volition and legally. Nobody knows how many workers were kidnapped and forced into labor. It probably helped that the language barrier obscured these facts.

“We do know that overall, there were an estimated one thousand-two hundred Chinese workers who lost their lives on the railroad construction. Some days, they blasted through the mountains and only gained eight inches of progress. Some days they tunneled through snow to continue working. I was told of an incident when the snow tunnel collapsed and buried the workers. The tunnel was cleared and the bodies that were not in the way of the track were not recovered until the snow began to melt in the spring. The workers would work extra hours, when they had them, recovering the bodies because the Chinese man wanted to be buried in his home soil.

“Most of the American workers who started on some phase of the project only saw a segment completed. Very few of the workers were able to go the whole distance. The progress of those who came later was built upon the efforts of the earlier workers.

“Now people can travel smoothly and effortlessly, at about six times the speed of a fast horse. As the horse and rider wear down quickly, the train moves on, seemingly, almost effortlessly. In fact, you can even get rested while riding on the train. Very few of the people who ride on those narrow ribbons of steel realize the sacrifice made by the individuals building the track. Now they carry cargo, medicine, supplies, books, teachers, judges, preachers, and everyone in search of a dream. The rails reunite families and have as many good purposes as you can imagine.

“That is the way life is. We are each given only a short segment of the total continuum. Some have it better than others. Some put their time into better use. If we worry or fret about the section we didn't get, or grumble about the one we got, our short segments will be over and we will not have even realized it. That is the way my exile has been. Sure, I have missed a lot of things I would have experienced down there, but I would not trade the things I have gained. Besides, an experience is never wasted if you learn from it, and no lessons are free of cost.

“We gain from others. I guess I am riding the tracks you built,” observed Stewart.

“That's the point I was making, not so much that you have ridden on my tracks as much as, we all benefit from the wisdom and the technological progress of others and have responsibility to pass on what we have learned.”

Stewart was amazed as he thought back to his original intentions in initiating the conversation. He only wondered how he would ever be able to continue Michael's track or fuel his own locomotive so others could ride it the furthest.

After a few moments of thought, Michael added, “Our lost years are only restored as we cause others to benefit from them. Have you ever read the prophet Joel?”

Stewart responded, “I have, but I really couldn't tell you what I learned from it.”

“There is a passage which says, ‘Return to Me with all your heart, and with fasting, weeping and mourning, and rend your hearts and not your garments…then I will make up to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the creeping locust, the stripping locust, and the gnawing locust.'

“The swarming locusts are all those burdens which seem to overwhelm us. The creeping locusts are the thoughts we hold in our minds and never know how they got so entrenched there. They are the thoughts that keep us awake at night or the thoughts that cause our hearts to jump or our stomachs to sour when we awaken. They are fears and worries. The stripping locusts are the problems that arise after we think we cannot carry another burden. Finally, the gnawing locusts are the concerns which take our joy and cause us to be melancholy.

“Do you notice all these are feelings or perceptions? They are not the actual problems or dangers, themselves, only the way we perceive them. After we get ourselves straightened out, the problems and the risks remain, but we see them differently and feel as if we have help with them.

“Let me give you an illustration. Our spiritual life is like cutting wood. We can go into the forest and cut wood alone or with the help of others. We then drag or haul the wood to the wood lot and split a stack. The wood burns best when it has been seasoned. There is only one way to season the wood. That is time.”

“Only after all the effort can we warm ourselves with our fire. We were warmed by the efforts of cutting, hauling, splitting and stacking, not to mention building physical strength and stamina. But we are comforted, with little effort, along with comforting others if we put our efforts into maintaining the fire.

“A good fire results from time and preparation. Fellowship is like fire. You have the most to contribute by the hours you have spent in preparation – like cutting the wood – the reading, praying, meditating, writing. You can then help others by removing the dead ashes and stirring the live embers occasionally.

“Michael, you have definitely stirred my fires. How can I help others?”

“That is something we all have to discover for ourselves. We were given talents and desire to use to the fullest. We will benefit most from them as we find a means to allow others to benefit.”

Michael thought a little more and added, “I have read through the Good Book several times. One principal mentioned over and over again is justice, mercy and defending the rights of the defenseless. When I was down there, attending church regularly, I can never remember a preacher even mentioning these concepts. That is what restoration is all about and making up for the years the locust have stripped. It is revealing the wrong, reviving the wronged.”

“Do you think living like you describe increases the number years of your life?”

“Yes, but I have discovered that it is not as important how we live as why we live.”

Stewart looked dazed with all the information he had just encountered, he was not sure if he would remember it all. He knew if he forgot the words, the thoughts and motivation would remain with him. “Look, Michael, the sun is coming up.”