Through photographs from a 1946 survey, the National Archives is highlighting the diverse lives of coal miners and their families in Power & Light: Russell Lee’s Coal Survey, a new exhibit opening on March 16, 2024.
To get to where you want to go, you need to know where you came from……………. America’s Industrial Revolution was Powered by the People of Appalachia and Coal.
In 1946, to end a 40-day strike, President Harry S. Truman ordered a government seizure of soft coal mines. Under the ensuing settlement with the United Mine Workers Union, the administration agreed to survey the health and safety of the miners’ working and living conditions. Under the leadership of the U.S. Navy Medical Corps, 90 mining communities in 22 states, from Wyoming to West Virginia, were surveyed. Lee was tasked with visually documenting the study. “Power & Light serves as an example of how records can impact the lives of Americans,” said Archivist of the United States Dr. Colleen Shogan. “These valuable photographs held by the National Archives helped change the narrative around the coal strikes. Today, they provide us a glimpse into the rich history of coal communities nationwide.” Visitors to the exhibit will see more than 200 of Russell Lee’s photographs of coal miners and their families.
This unprecedented survey and its powerful images were credited for constructing 13 new modern hospitals in the southern Appalachians, installing washhouses, and improving mine safety and first aid. “Russell Lee’s photographs of coal miners are rich sources of historical information about the lives of a group of people unfamiliar to mainstream Americans. Although largely out of sight, their labor was critical to the nation,” said Alice Kamps, the exhibit curator. “Many people had a negative view of the striking miners, partly because of the remoteness of their problems and partly because of propaganda that portrayed them as greedy and un-American.
The photographs depict the reality of their plight. Today, the photographs give us a window into a way of life that has largely disappeared and remind us of the humanity of a group of people who have sometimes been reduced to stereotypes.” The entire series of photographs, which includes more than 4,000 images, can only be found in the holdings of the National Archives. These images document inhumane living and working conditions and depict the miners’ families’ and communities’ joy, strength, and resilience. “The exhibit enables us to witness the hardships many coal miners endured and the strength, determination, and resilience they showed in the face of those difficulties,” Kamps added. “It’s important to recognize that the people in these degraded and tragic circumstances we see in some photos were employed and hardworking. Yet many could not feed, clothe, and care for their families even though they worked for an industry of critical national importance. They went on strike for valid reasons, and the photographs document the depth and seriousness of their concerns.”
Family of Henry Armour, one of top coal loaders in the mines Inland Steel Company, Wheelwright #1 & 2 Mines, Wheelwright, Floyd County, Kentucky. Last year’s income was in excess of $5400.
Coal Miner Son Finds His Place in the World.
Dr. William Paolillo with Michael Armour
We cannot change how people act. We can choose our attitude……. Life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react.
I grew up in Wheelwright, a small coal mining town tucked deep in the heart of Appalachia, Eastern Kentucky. Life was tough. It wasn’t all bad—there were a lot of good people there—but it was tough. As an African American in a predominantly white area, it brought additional challenges. It was a way of life. My mother, Hazel, did housework for a wealthy white family in a town 32 miles from where we lived. It was where she grew up, but on the other side of the tracks. Sometimes, Mom brought me to her job and then dropped me off to play with my cousins. One occasion, I’ll never forget—I walked up to the front door instead of the usual backdoor entrance. My mother had a look of shock and fear on her face. She quickly shuttled me off to the back door and let me have it with both barrels. I was stunned. The wealthy white family wasn’t home, so what’s the problem? “Somebody might see you. That’s the problem. There were boundaries that everyone was expected to know and abide by.” My father, from Alabama, knew it well. He was respected for his hard work and respectful demeanor. He always taught us kids to do our best but to be smart and know our place and the imposed boundaries. We loved him, but we didn’t always listen to him.
We lived in a small five-room house owned by the Inland Steel coal company with my father, mother, sister, and brothers. Coal gave the community a livelihood to feed and provide for their families, but it came at a high price and took its toll on most miners. Coal sustained Eastern Kentucky, but it was a hard way to make a living, and it was common to see miners with missing fingers, and some lost their lives in the mines. My father made it out. He started when he was 13 and retired when he was 66. But he died prematurely from black lung and Alzheimer’s disease. Just about every man in Wheelwright came down with black lung disease. I knew I did not want to be a coal miner, but I loved the coal miner culture. The coal miner’s purpose was to make a better life for their families; my father worked so hard for our family so we could have opportunities denied to him.
My mother and father’s example of working hard rubbed off on me without me knowing it. Day after day, seemingly with no respite, although I’m sure there was, they worked. I wondered why my father couldn’t seem to stay awake to watch Gunsmoke or My Three Sons to save his life. He no sooner set down in front of that big old TV encased in a wooden cabinet than his head leaned back against the wall, and he was out. I didn’t get it. Years later, I realized that he fell asleep as soon as his back hit the couch because he had been on his feet working from before sunrise until well beyond sundown. The poor man was exhausted. It was the same with my mother. She went to bed at 8:30 in the winter and summer. They worked hard to care for us kids and left us an example and a legacy that shaped my approach to employment. My daddy, the top-loading coal miner, year after year, used to tell me, “You make money for the man, and he gonna keep ya.”
There were good people in my life who influenced me. There were black people and white people in my life from the time I was a youngster and through high school and beyond that impacted my life. I knew discrimination and prejudice, and there was no mistaking the source. But what goes unnoticed by so many people are those of the other persuasion who loved me, helped me, taught me, and kicked me in the behind when I needed it. I would not be who I am, and I could not have been blessed to go as far as I have been if not for the community of people who did extraordinary things for me under considerable pressure at times. They gave me a hand, not a handout, but a hand to help me and to steer me away from trouble and towards bigger and better things. These relationships taught me about the most important things in life and how to listen, collaborate, and lead.
At sixteen, I felt a call on my life—God. My parents required us to attend Sunday school, and it was in Sunday School that the reality of God drew me to him. I heard the call, but it was not easy to accept. I wanted to go out with my friends on Friday nights and do what they were doing: drinking and hooking up. Instead, I surrendered my life to God. God led me to Akron, Ohio, where I served as an associate minister at the Church of God Cole Ave. I attended the University of Akron and worked as an apprentice electrician at First Energy Electric Utility. I was trained to climb poles, splice conductors, and work manholes out in the elements. I did that well for ten years and was recognized as having managerial potential. I was offered a position in management and moved quickly through the First Energy management ranks—front-line supervisor, manager, general manager, and then to director. First Energy is one of the top 10 publicly traded utilities.
My daddy was respected for his hard work and respectful demeanor. He always taught us kids to do our best but to be smart and know our place and the imposed boundaries. We loved him, but we didn’t always listen to him. I knew discrimination and prejudice, and there was no mistaking the source. But what goes unnoticed by so many people are those of the other persuasion who loved me, helped me, taught me, and kicked me in the behind when I needed it.
The lessons of being part of a miner’s family shaped me. I am blessed to be able to give back and pay it forward. Times have changed, but the issues that block and hinder folks from reaching their full potential are real and present. I go into the community and serve as a community connector to provide a pathway to those who see no way out of their circumstances. There is a way to go from being a helper in the electrical field with no skills to becoming a journeyman trained and skilled in operating high-voltage equipment to one day becoming a director at a Fortune 500 company. Life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react.
Michael serves as a community church pastor and most recently served as the director of community outreach for JW Didado Electric, Quanta Services Co. JW Didado Electric will serve as the lead electrical contractor on the Piketon project. Michael engages the local community and served as boots on the ground to add value to the community where JW Didado Electric lives and works. Michael helped to support three programs to attract diverse groups to work in the electrical trades:
- LIVE CLASSROOM: Designed to equip students who desire to pursue careers in construction, engineering, or architecture.
- TRAIN TO HIRE: A workforce development program for young adults for 12 consecutive weeks. This program transitions individuals into full-time, part-time, or project-specific employment opportunities.
- BRIGHT FUTURE Re-Entry Program: Provides work opportunities and training to individuals recovering from substance abuse and to individuals who have been incarcerated.