Jeff Lovett A collection of research in process.

12Oct/09

San Toy Article

From the Athens News, December 9, 2002

SAN TOY: GHOST TOWN OR A BLACK DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH?

Monday, December 9, 2002
By Matt Zuefle

In 1996, on my last visit to San Toy, Ohio, I had to stop and ask directions twice. Driving down a long, unpaved road to the bottom of a deep, wooded valley, I came to a crossroads with a signless post marking the intersection. This was the San Toy of my seeking. My very own Appalachian city of Cibola. I had heard about it since I had starting working in the area, and now I had found it.Only a couple of houses down the road were occupied; these, along with a small church that was being refurbished, were the last viable traces of an incorporated community that once was home to hundreds of people. Out in the woods were the foundations of the old company store and a school, along with the brick skeleton of the jail. The remains of the old town were now scarcely visible; the new community of sycamores, sumacs, beeches and poison ivy were moving back. I hear it hasn't changed much.

San Toy, sometimes spelled Santoy, is only one of the many old mining communities that historian Ivan Tribe of the University of Rio Grande dubbed "The Little Cities of Black Diamonds," borrowing a term originally coined by a local newspaperman in the 19th century and used to describe the newly prosperous city of Nelsonville. The "black diamond" was of course coal, and coal helped more than 50 such small communities in Athens, Hocking, Perry, Morgan and surrounding counties to found and flourish in the period between the 1860s and the 1920s.

Some of their names are familiar, such as Murray City, Glouster and Chauncey. Others, such as Hemlock, Congo, Hatfield Town and Orbiston are not as well known. Among them, San Toy is almost completely forgotten. To those who remember, it was a boomtown, albeit a short-lived one. It started out as a traditional (read temporary) mining town and was known as a rough place, complete with wild shoot-outs and moonshining.

When it was sold from the New England Coal Company to the Sunday Creek Coal Company in 1915, the new owners of the mine and the town vowed to make it a "modern mining system and a model community," according to the recorded memories of resident W. G. "Shorty" Addington.

The aforementioned buildings were erected, along with a drug store, a hospital and a theater. In 1920 it was said to have 2,500 residents. By the end of the decade, the estimates ranged from 50 to 168. A changing economy, distant corporate decisions, and the consequences of the big strike of 1927 had conspired to erase San Toy from history.

Joe Fabiny, a local farmer and old-time miner whom I have had the pleasure of getting to know recently, was a young boy in nearby Moxahala when San Toy was still thriving. (Moxahala, or "Moxie" as many locals know it, is one of my favorite regional place names -- as it sounds exotic, like something out of the deepest South.)

Joe is 87. His voice is strong and tempered by years of hard work. His father John was born in Slovakia in 1877 and moved to the United States around the turn of the century. John lived with his family in Moxahala and worked as a miner; in the late1910s he worked in San Toy. Joe remembers how his dad would gather provisions and walk 10 miles to work at the San Toy mines. He carried his lunch and water down into the shafts and was paid for loading coal by the ton. Joe can't remember how much his dad earned, but he does remember that when he worked the mines at Congo in the 1930s he was paid 68 cents a ton. This usually worked out to about $3 a day, or more when enough cars and ponies were available to keep loading.

Joe, John and the other San Toy miners most often used carbide lamps, which utilized an archaic system of producing acetylene to fuel a live flame projecting from their helmets. Joe also remembers taking his dad to work at the at the Number 9 mine at Rendville and being surprised to find the area occupied by the Ohio National Guard during a labor dispute. He even remembers the hour-long drive down old Rt. 13 in a Model T to Millfield the day after the big mine disaster. It was Nov. 6, 1930 when he and his father came to support the families and friends of miners while the rescue was still on. Eighty-two died, and it was destined to become the worst mine accident in Ohio history.

THE HEYDAY OF THE OLD "Black Diamond" communities varied. For some towns, the best days were already over by the 1880s; for others it was much later. By 1930, one of the San Toy mine houses had burned and the few families left in town were given a chance to buy their houses for $50 to $75 apiece. This was the last picture show. For many years, old residents gathered at various places for San Toy reunions, but it appears that these have ended now, too.

We have a rich cultural and natural history in our area. The glory days of the mining towns were a big part of it. Places like San Toy and good neighbors like Joe Fabiny remain as a testament to the drama and human spirit that preceded us in the southeastern Ohio hill country.

With the help of concerned individuals and active groups, we can preserve our rich local history. And it is a history worth preserving. The old mining towns are even becoming a tourism draw of sorts, attracting a new breed of "heritage tourist." These new tourists are starting to take note of the old sites and several related annual festivals, including a "Black Diamond" auction that is emerging as an event of its own.

We shouldn't underestimate how interesting our own area is. If you don't believe it, turn off the History Channel, go out, and talk to one of the many people right next door who have lived history.

Editor's note: The author thanks Dr. Robert N. Richmond, D.V.M., editor of "San Toy Ghost Town: The Town That Ain't No More"; Betty White and the Morgan County Historical Society; Cheryl Blosser, Chad Seurkamp and John Winnenberg of The Little Cities of Black Diamonds Council; Dr. Ivan Tribe; and Mr. Joe Fabiny. Matt Zuefle lives in Athens. He can be contacted at crotaxa@hotmail.com.

News Watch

2May/09

Entangled Citizens Ohio Site Visits

From Dr. Geoffrey Buckley:
Is there a better way to learn about a place than experiencing it firsthand? Southeastern Ohio – or Appalachian Ohio as it is sometimes called – has a rich and colorful past. Today’s trip takes us into the heart of southeastern Ohio’s historic mining district. Among other things, we’ll see remnants of past mining operations, including drift mines and “company” towns. We’ll learn how two sites – the Majestic Mine and Essex Mine complexes – have been restored. We’ll tour a theatre in the process of restoration and hike to Robinson Cave, where miners first hatched the plan to form the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA). Time permitting, we’ll also view some abandoned surface mine operations. I hope you enjoy this all-too-brief tour of our area’s physical and cultural landscapes! As we head west on Route 33, we will pass the new headquarters of the Wayne National Forest. Notice the building’s design – modeled after a coal tipple. It reminds us of the critical role resource extraction (especially coal mining) has played in the region’s economy. We’ll also pass very close to the Eclipse company town, out the window to our left. Our first stop will be the Majestic Mine complex. Abandoned more than seventy years ago, this mine contributes significant amounts of acid mine drainage to Monday Creek just one half mile from its confluence with the Hocking River. Although the company town associated with this mine, Floodwood, is long since gone, the Majestic Mine complex remains a wonderful example of an early twentieth century drift mine operation. Here, Pam Stachler of the USDA Forest Service will tell us a bit about the history of this site and on-going efforts to restore it. Turning east on Route 78, we’ll pass through the region’s “Little Cities of Black Diamonds.” Buchtel, Shawnee, Glouster, New Straitsville, and Murray City (to name but a few) were important coal-mining towns during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. All were once linked to the railroad, a key outlet not only for coal but also the bricks that were manufactured in southeastern Ohio. In Murray City we’ll pick up Route 216 and head toward New Straitsville. Our next stop is the Essex Mine complex. The Essex Mine is another good example of a drift mine, which describes the way miners entered the coal seam. Notice the milky white water emanating from the mine. As Pam will explain, here it is aluminum, and not iron, that is influencing the color. The mine water at this site is being treated by a limestone “doser,” which you can inspect when we return to the bus. From here it is on to New Straitsville where we will meet Cheryl Blosser. Cheryl will give us a tour of Robinson Cave and tell us all about the area’s labor history. We’ll then board the bus and take a short trip up the road to the intersection of 155 and 93, where we will stop to inspect the false-fronted buildings and second-story porches that have made the town of Shawnee a national landmark. In addition to telling us about this company town’s past – and its unique architecture – we are very fortunate to have John Winnenburg on hand to give us a tour of the old Tecumseh Theatre. At this point, we will head back to New Straitsville where we will pick up Route 595. Although we do not have time to visit Glouster, Millfield, Corning, and Rendville, note that they’re not too far away. Located just a few miles south of Glouster, Millfield was the site of Ohio’s worst mine disaster. An explosion here on November 5, 1930 killed 82 men employed by the Sunday Creek Coal Company. Remains of the power plant and various out buildings can still be seen. (Note: The worst explosion on record in the U.S. killed at least 362 miners back in 1907 in Monongah, West Virginia.) Proceeding west on 595, our next stop today is Haydenville. Just after crossing over Route 33 but before entering town, notice the lock and ditch for the Hocking and Columbus Canal. The canal and, later, the railroad, were absolutely critical to the region’s economic development. All of the little mining towns we’ve driven through this morning were once linked to the railroad, a key outlet not only for coal but also the bricks that were manufactured in southeastern Ohio. Haydenville was a company town until 1964, making it the last of the company towns in Ohio. Many of the buildings in this town are listed on the National Register of Historic Places. In addition to the linear design, Haydenville conformed to the stereotypic company town image in other ways as well. This is especially true with respect to segregation according to ethnicity and economic class. Turning east on Route 33 we will, if time permits, turn right on Route 691. Out the right side of the bus, we’ll see more evidence of past mining, including another abandoned drift mine. Much of this coal was mined in the 1950s and 1960s. As we wind around on Route 691, I’ll point out areas where strip mining occurred about forty years ago. We’ll make a brief stop near the old landfill – a spot where we can scramble up a small embankment and gaze down at a “high wall” that has now filled with water. We’ll pick up Poston Station Road, pass the site of an old power plant, and then pop out on Route 682 in the Plains. Then it’s back to Athens and OU!