Copyright © 2004 - 2008 Roger Philpot All Rights Reserved
Images © Roger Philpot - 2008
One day fifteen days later eleven. For the grim total of twenty six men young and old. Their profession digging coal all lost their lives within a week.
Who's to blame for the suffering and the pain who brought on by disaster at Blue Diamond Scotia mine.
Today they came to seal the pit with eleven men inside of it. I watched as sad faces went to and fro. The fathers the sons the mothers and the wives friends of those who lost their lives. Shed a million teardrops at Blue Diamonds Scotia mine.
An old man standing along side of me wiped a tear from his cheek turned to me and said, son I'm getting old, and God knows Iv' e dug my share of coal part of which I dug right here in Scotia mine.
Son he said somewhere down there in that tomb where gas replaced the air lies my first born. A boy who meant this world to me, since the day he started working. Iv' e been afraid, something told me he was digging his own grave from the first day he dug coal in Scotia mine.
I can remember times down there I choked and gasped for air the times I walked hand in hand with death. My God why was I spared. It should be me not him down there he was planning for a future I was making plans to rest.
Suddenly it was over. I was awakened with a jerk. The little wife was saying Bob its time to go to work. Is it all right if I drive you you to the mine. I didn't tell her about the dream or how frightening and realistic it seemed or that I had gone to bed with Scotia on my mind
