From Deseret News archives:
Writer remembers anguish of '72 mine fire
Miner mentality, hope of families stick out for him
Whether the six men trapped in the belly of the Crandall Canyon Mine emerge as survivors or if they've perished or if only one survives, the waiting, the hoping, the longing for information will leave an indelible footprint on the brotherhood of a community that has to endure the minutes, hours and days of the unknown.
Gregg Olsen knows.
A best-selling New York Times author, Olsen spent four years researching the Sunshine Mine disaster in Kellogg, Idaho, where 91 miners died, 83 others were able to escape initially and two men survived for eight days before they were rescued.
How did they survive?
On one rotten tuna fish sandwich, a little bit of water and a lot of prayers.
"Knowing these two guys, they would tell the six to buck up and you will get through this because you are strong and full of spirit."
Olsen wrote "The Deep Dark" based on the May 2, 1972, fire in the silver mine of Sunshine, which was never supposed to burn, interviewing survivors, widows and government officials about a story that had never been told.
The fire created thick deadly columns of smoke that were an instant killer more than 4,000 feet below ground. It also created heroes as they rescued co-workers and perished in the process.
Olsen lives in Washington and is watching the events of Crandall Canyon unfold with hope, despair and a kinship that can only come with getting buried deep in the miner mentality.
"These miners, the truth of it is, they will leave no man behind. They really do look out for each other. If a couple of them are weak, hurt, their buddies are going to do everything they can to keep them alive. There is going to be nobody who is trying to dig their way out on their own."
Olsen has written a number of true-crime novels, exploring the crazed depths of murder, mayhem and of people doing unspeakable things to each other. Crime is gritty and hurts. But he said nothing prepared him for Sunshine and the waves of grief that continue to ripple years later.
"It happened when I was a teenager. You have 91 dead neighbors, fathers and brothers in the same town. I waited 30 years, and I decided I would write the book. ... It was the most depressing thing I had ever done. I was never prepared for this idea of shared grief, this bond of grief that they could never get rid of."
Olsen says that same bond is playing out now in Utah's coal-rich country, where hope is like sunshine or the wind, and the desire is that it brushes up against the families and brings comfort.
"I know they can't eat, they can't sleep and they spend a lot of time talking to God and hoping their husbands come home. It's really that basic."
