ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: TUESDAY, June 21, 1994                   TAG: 9407110204
SECTION: CURRENT                    PAGE: NRV-3   EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY 
SOURCE: By ROBERT FREIS STAFF WRITER
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Long


MERRIMAC MEMORIES

On summer evenings of his youth, beneath shady trees at the family's homestead, Garland Proco sat impatiently with his father and grandfather while the older men reminisced about their coal mining days.

"They'd rather be mining than anything else in the world. As long as they lived, they wanted to talk about it," he recalls.

Mining, on the other hand, meant little to him. By the time Garland was born, all the Merrimac mines were closed. Nothing remained along the shallow valley of Lick Run except earthen mounds of slag.

Proco remembers the aroma of strong coffee his father and grandfather sipped as they talked, but little else.

"My greatest regret," he says.

Sons come to recognize the value of memories when their fathers die, and that is what happened to Garland Proco several years ago.

"Merrimac Mines: A Personal History," represents Proco's homecoming. The new book is many things: a family history, a history of coal mining in that part of Montgomery County and a tribute to the old Merrimac community.

"If my father were alive, he'd be overjoyed that I've written the book," Proco said.

Just published this month (June 3), the book's central character is Proco's grandfather, an Eastern European who immigrated to Montgomery County in 1903.

Mike Proco brought a farm on Price Mountain and worked in the nearby coal mines until he was grievously burned by an underground gas explosion.

His son, Garland's father, George, was badly injured in another mine accident. "Merrimac Mines: A Personal History" contains other stories of miners who were killed or injured.

Despite the hardships, most ex-miners who spoke to Proco expressed no anger or regret, but a sense of prideful nostalgia - the same tone shared by the author's relatives.

"Do I miss the mine? Oh, Lord, yes!" says Alvie Jones. "Shoot yes, I miss it. If I was a young man and had life to live over and there was a coal mine around, I'd go back."

Jones - who survived a 1938 gas explosion that killed two fellow miners - died on the same day the book was printed.

Sorrowed that Jones never saw a copy of the book, Proco is consoled that the old miner's memories will now live forever.

"Merrimac Mines" - the most comprehensive account of local coal mining yet to appear - taps a rich vein of local history.

For generations, coal mines were the county's largest employer and a significant cultural influence. However, the larger mines closed 40 years ago and the vivid stories of mining dimmed as years passed.

Interest was rekindled during a local revival of coal mining history. Ex-miners and their families raised money and built a memorial monument near McCoy two months ago.

That monument contains the names of 42 victims of Montgomery County mining accidents, 15 of whom died at Merrimac or Price Mountain mines.

Proco read the Merrimac miners' names aloud to a large crowd that attended the new monument's dedication. His book is timely, yet the author says he's unconcerned about profit.

"If a few people tell me they like the story, that's the only payment I need. It's the most fulfilling thing I've done."

Already, Proco, 53, has led an accomplished life. A graduate of Blacksburg High School and Virginia Tech, he works as the U.S. Department of Energy's chief watchdog over nuclear materials stored in the government's sizable facility at Oak Ridge, Tenn.

Like other members of his generation, Proco left home to seek prosperity. Yet his success had deep roots, spreading from the dark shafts where his ancestors toiled.

Miners, earning only a pittance in wages, diligently shouldered their burden because they believed their hard work would yield brighter opportunities for their children, Proco said.

In the case of Proco and his five siblings, that wish came true.

"Merrimac Mines: A Personal History" traces two centuries of local mining from the days of "farmer's diggings" - open pits dug into surface outcrops of coal - to the boom mining towns of the early 1900s.

In those heady days, Proco writes, "Any man who could swing a miner's pick and heft a number 10 shovel had a job in the mine and plenty of money bulging his overalls."

At Merrimac was a company town with about 80 four-room frame houses containing two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room for miners. Nearby were offices, a commissary, industrial buildings and a two-story hotel, all located on a railroad line that became known as the Huckleberry. Today, not a splinter of any can be found.

Proco's grandfather was among many Eastern Europeans who came to Montgomery County to mine and among the few immigrants to remain after the mines closed.

Along the eastern face of Price Mountain, next to the old family property, is an isolated graveyard where Proco's ancestors lie. Grandfather Mike is there, beneath a headstone adorned with photographs of the deceased, a common sight at coal town graveyards where Eastern Europeans are buried.

Danger always lurked in the mines, either in the form of gas explosions, rock falls or machine malfunctions. Echoes of disasters that killed or maimed Merrimac miners occur throughout Proco's book.

Now, the mines exist only in memories, but Proco has carefully preserved miners' recollections in 102 pages with illustrations, footnotes and an index.

Of Merrimac, he says: "If you were born in that part of the county, you can't tell your story unless you involve mining."

Merrimac Mines: A Personal History" is available through Southern Printing Inc. of Blacksburg and the Montgomery County Historical Society. The book is also being sold by civic groups, including the Merrimac Pentecostal Holiness Church. Copies will also be available at a book signing with Proco on July 2 from 1 p.m.to 5 p.m. at the Montgomery County Museum on Pepper Street in Christiansburg.



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