By Joan Hinkemeyer, Special to the News
November 4, 2005
Every Coloradan possesses at least a nodding acquaintance with Colorado's gold mining history, but most are unaware of coal mining's major - and often violent - role in our state's story. Even the Ludlow Massacre brings only vague recognition.
Strikers in Walsenburg stand in front of their union hall, Jan. 12,
1928, after several fellow strikers were shot. The incident was one of many
attacks against miners struggling for better working conditions, detailed
in the new book, Slaughter in Serene.
"Slaughter in Serene," a collection of writings by four different authors, relates the brutality inflicted on coal miners seeking improved working conditions and wages at the Columbine Mine near what was then called Serene, Colo., 15 miles north of Denver. The strike also occurred in at least 100 other mines statewide.
Although each author represented - Eric Margolis, Joanna Sampson, Phil Goodstein and Richard Myers - presents a different aspect of the strikes during the late 1920s, all reveal the inhumane treatment of miners whose workloads increased while wages were reduced by greedy mine owners. Miners also paid for their own tools and were required to live in the mine camp with rent paid to the company and purchases made at the company store.
When desperation caused a strike statewide, Gov. Adams ordered the state police to disperse picket lines. Although innocent men were subsequently murdered - there were six deaths at the Columbine Mine, referred to at the time as the "Columbine Massacre," and at least two in Walsenburg - the governor blamed the miners and absolved the state police of wrongdoing.
Each article includes numerous photos and newspaper excerpts, as well as extensive bibliographies, but the book sorely needs a map pinpointing mine locations. Writing styles vary from the highly academic and factual to a narrative reading as smoothly as fiction. Of interest is the chapter on women's roles in the strikes, which completes the picture of this black chapter in our state's history.
Edited by Lowell May and Richard Myers (Bread and Roses Workers' Cultural Center, $19.05. Readers may order online, at workersbreadandroses.org or by calling 303-433-1852).
The fistfight was bad enough, but when the women in the strike line entered into the spirit of the ruckus, it was humiliating for the police.
The sight of big Santa Benash looming out of the mob was enough to strike terror into the heart of the bravest guard. Santa Benash was six feet tall, weighed 235 pounds, and could knock a man down with one blow. She zeroed in on one particularly obnoxious guard and sent him flying into the dirt. When he staggered to his feet, she doubled up her fist and let him have it again. This time he stayed down.
Joanna Sampson, Slaughter in Serene
Louis Scherf didn’t concern himself with what might be on the minds
of the several hundred miners walking toward him the morning of November
21, 1927. He saw an unruly mob intent upon defying his authority. He borrowed
a pistol from one of his men and fired two .45 caliber rounds over the heads
of the strikers.
Was this action meant as one last warning? It didn’t matter. His men responded with deadly fire directly into the crowd. In the early dawn light the miners scattered under a hail of lead. Twelve remained on the ground, some writhing in agony while others lay still.
Richard Myers, Slaughter in Serene
Flaming Milka was no stranger to the picket lines. She led 250 strikers
on a march at the CF&I Ideal Mine in Huerfano County. That morning twelve
gunmen met them with drawn bayonets, and there were another twenty-five
guards mounted on horseback. The guards swore that an unruly horse knocked
Milka down, breaking her wrist and inflicting possible internal injuries.
The miners, however, reported that one mounted guard leaned out of his saddle,
seized the fiery young woman, and galloped down the road, dragging her behind
his horse.
When authorities arrived at the hospital with the injured girl, her red
dress torn and dirty, her body covered with bruises (and slated for jail
as soon as she was patched up) they discovered that she was 19 years old,
beautiful and, like a caged wild cat, spitting hatred at her tormenters.
Joanna Sampson, Slaughter in Serene
The scabs were no match for six thousand angry women. After long years of
abuse and poverty the women were fed up with hostility from the companies,
indifference from the public, a repressive system of justice. The women
understood they were an oppressed class, and they sought to change that
circumstance by concerted action.
One group of women, estimated at 2,000, stormed the Ringo-Edson mine, prevented
the sixty miners employed there from going to work, destroyed their dinner
buckets and threw the contents on the workers.
The women paid no attention to the sheriff except to pelt him with bread
and butter...
Richard Myers, Slaughter in Serene
