May 13, 1975 — "Rescue workers brought the body of a third dead miner from the Deer Creek Mine shortly before midnight Monday. Recovery of the body ended 12 hours of dramatic effort by miners to dig through to him." — Deseret News
HUNTINGTON — Deep inside Utah's coal mines lie a thousand stories.
You'll find them in the faces of miners like Ray Guymon, who turned a one-time summer job into a career.
Thirty-two years later, Guymon, 54, a safety engineer in Utah Power's Deer Creek Mine in Emery County, spends his time driving through a labyrinth, checking machinery and accompanying federal inspectors on weekly rounds.
Main West to Main North.
Main East to 3rd North.
10th West to 4th North.
6th North to 7th Right.
The seemingly endless corridors wind their way far into the mountain, across fault zones and spent coal seams, eight miles into blackness where millions of tons of coal still lie.
It's here in the new Mill Fork lease tract, beneath nearly 2,500 feet of mountain, that an estimated 65 million tons of coal remain, enough to last another 12 to 15 years.
"The Mill Fork area is virgin territory for us," said Scott Timothy, operations superintendent of the Deer Creek Mine. "That's the last of our big leases we can access from Deer Creek."
The Deer Creek Mine is one of the oldest and longest operating mines in the state, with operations dating back to the turn of the century. More than 4 million tons of coal are mined each year, making it Utah's second-most-productive mine.
"Deer Creek has been around longer than any of the mines that exist today," Timothy said. "Most of the other mines that were big mines have closed."
In 2002, Utah mines produced 25.3 million tons of coal, making Utah the 13th-largest coal-producing state in the country.
And in spite of renewable energy campaigns and a shift to natural gas-fired power plants, coal remains the primary fuel for Utah's electricity production, supplying 95 percent of the state's power and half of the nation's generation.
The best part of working in a coal mine is the people, Guymon will tell you. It's a brotherhood forged through demanding and dangerous work.
"Some of my best friends work here," Guymon said. "You get really close because you have to look out for each other."
Aug. 25, 1979 — "The cause of a rock fall that killed four miners and seriously injured a fifth was under investigation Saturday. The men were struck when a 15-by-15-foot slab of rock fell Friday shortly before noon as they were working on timber supports." — Deseret News
Timothy agrees that the bond between miners is unique.
"Most of us who have worked here have worked a lot of years together," Timothy said. "We spend as much time with each other as with our families."
Employee turnover is low at Deer Creek. Many miners have 25 to 30 years of mining experience, Timothy said, most of it at this one mine.
Even for a new generation of miners like Robby Robertson, 24, who took his first job in the mines at age 20, the thought of leaving is not a consideration.
"I'll be here 35 years from now, 'til I retire," Robertson said.
Ask these men, and chances are mining runs deep in the family.
Robertson's great-grandfather, grandfather and father were all miners.
Jerry Howell, 54, has worked in a coal mine 35 years. Howell's father mined his whole life, for 34 years.
"If you like it, you stay with it," Howell said. "If you don't, you get out. Some people had no choice. It was a matter of survival, like any other industry."
Dec. 15, 1983 — "The body of a Southern Utah Fuel Co. mine worker was found early Thursday, buried beneath 700 tons of coal and rock following a daylong search through miles of underground tunnels." — Deseret News
Standing alongside a longwall shearer for the first time is like going into battle.
You vs. the mountain.
It's the cracking and ripping sounds that first seize one's consciousness.
To the front, a rotating blade travels the length of more than two football fields, ripping into an 8-foot-high coal seam and sending boulder-size chunks onto a conveyor belt.
Hydraulic steel shields, capable of supporting up to 5,000 pounds per square inch, hold the roof above workers in place. As the leg jacks supporting the shields move forward, thousands of tons of rock crash in only feet behind miners in an area known as the "gob."
The longwall shearer is computer-controlled, running 20 hours a day and capable of mining 800 tons of coal in a 30-minute cycle.
Floyd Anderson, 47, has been in the mine since he was 20 years old. Today, he operates the advancing props on the longwall shearer.
Chuck Wiley, a miner at Deer Creek, recalls one man who lost a foot as one of the toes of the leg jacks moved forward.
"The biggest hazard is all the moving equipment, knowing what's going to move, when," Anderson said. "It's not going to stop. If you're in the way, you're going to get run over."
Dec. 23, 1984 — "The search for survivors became a search for bodies Saturday night as Emery Mining Corp. officials announced that all 27 miners trapped by a fire in the Wilberg Mine are dead." — Deseret News
Mention coal mining to people today and many will think of an unsafe occupation.
Utah tragedies like the 1900 Scofield Mine disaster, which claimed 200 lives, or the 1924 Castle Gate Mine explosions, where 172 men lost their lives, have cast a long shadow.
But statistics tell a different story.
Nationwide, in 2003 there were 30 coal-mining fatalities. That compares to 3,242 deaths in 1907.
The Deer Creek Mine had zero lost-time accidents in 2002.
"There's no doubt about it, it's safer today. Accident rates bear that out," Guymon said. "Fires, explosions, fatalities don't happen as often as they did 40 to 50 years ago."
Still, miners continue to face many dangers, like moving equipment, roof cave-ins and rib breaks, where side panels of coal suddenly give way. Sprains and strains from lifting are the most common injuries.
"The ribs are probably our biggest hazards," Timothy said. "They slough out, fall out. We had a broken ankle last week, broke both bones. It was a rib that sloughed out."
Most injuries occur around the continuous miner, a remote-controlled machine that loads coal onto shuttle cars as it mines.
Jan. 6, 2004 — "Investigators say an accident at a coal mine claimed the life of a 44-year-old man Saturday night. Russell Crane of Salina was killed at the Southern Utah Fuel Co. mine when a large chain broke and struck him in the head." — Deseret Morning News
Even with improved safety, most miners can recall personal experiences or those of family members or friends who have been injured or lost their lives.
Guymon and Howell were both on rescue teams at the time of the 1984 Wilberg Mine fire. Both knew those who lost their lives.
Timothy had finished his shift just hours before the Wilberg Mine fire.
Robertson's grandfather was killed in a 1956 explosion at the Trail Mountain Mine.
Kip Allred, of Orangeville, Emery County, broke his arm, shoulder and knee after being buried in a longwall accident in 1989.
Jon Allred, an analyst with the Utah Energy Office, said Utahns owe a debt of gratitude to the miners.
"Those guys keep the lights on for us," Allred said. "We take it so casually because we have no idea the daily miracles that these guys perform to take the coal up from so deep. I think those guys are heroes."
E-mail: danderton@desnews.com