“Shhhh,” John whispered. “That’s the breaker boss. If one of those boys slows down or talks, the boss will hit him with that stick.” The breaker boys’ job was to separate coal from waste rock, which John called culm. They’d let the coal slide down the chutes but when a piece of culm came by, they’d lower their feet into the chute to slow the whole pile. Then they’d pick out the culm and toss it into another chute that took it outside. The coal kept going and was sorted according to size. The boys’ hands were in awful condition, but no one wore gloves. If they did, they wouldn’t be able to pick up the culm as fast and the boss would hit them for being too slow. Most of the boys were my age and even younger. “I think I’ve seen enough of this place,” I told John. “Can we meet your father?” We jumped to the ground and ran to the mine. I don’t know what I was expecting, but all I saw was a dark tunnel. I looked down but it was pitch black; I couldn’t see anything. All of a sudden a mule came out of the tunnel pulling a cart full of coal. I jumped back. Behind him was a man holding a whip and wearing a hat on his head that held a tiny lighted lantern. “Is the mine down there?” I asked John. “Of course it is,” he laughed. “Mines aren’t dug on top of the ground. That tunnel goes down hundreds of feet, and it goes off in all different directions.” “Is that all the light they have?” I said. “There are a few bigger lanterns, too,” John replied. “But they still don’t give off a lot of light. If your lantern goes out, you can’t see your hand in front of your face. It’s scary. Sometimes there are
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