Distinctly Montana Magazine

w w w . d i s t i n c t l y m o n t a n a . c o m 57 spread, making hundreds of miles of underground tunnel poisonous and confounding rescue attempts. A mining cage had just descended into the mine with two occupants. Moments later, a great gout of flame shot from the mouth of the tunnel, and the men on the surface knew that the elevator's riders had been dropped into an inferno. Little was found of the men later, save for a few teeth and one of the buttons of their overalls. Some were able to reach the surface, and an initial head- count of survivors indicated that there were about 200 men still trapped below. The town itself was a frenzy of activity, as families rushed to the mines to see if their husbands, fathers and brothers had survived. The streets were choked with cars and wagons—anything that could serve as a makeshift ambu- lance—or hearse—was put to use. Amazingly, the man whose lamp started the blaze, Sully Sallau, was able to escape the initial disaster. Hours later, af- ter the fire in the Speculator had appeared to subside, twelve brave volunteers, including Sallau, descended into the mine to try to rescue any survivors. After they reached the bottom, they were met with another wave of poisonous gas. All of them were killed. As is always the case, disasters are also sites for exceptional grace and sacrifice. Manus Duggan, a 25-year-old nipper, exhibited just that when, shortly after the fire's breakout, he organized 29 of his fellow miners and led them toward a chamber that was still free of gas. The men sealed it off, constructing a makeshift bulkhead out of whatever they had on hand, including wood, dirt, and their own clothes. When small holes appeared, and gas began to penetrate their cross- cut, they would remove another article of clothing to patch them. As the hours pressed on, Duggan, knowing that time was limited, set out with two other men to try and find safe passage, so that he could return to lead his group out. The group of 26 men waited. Duggan never returned. His body and the bodies of the other men would only be discovered days later, having failed to find passage. Finally, with oxygen running out, the remaining miners decided to try to find their own path to safety. They sprinted to the nearest station and discovered, tears in their eyes, ju- bilant, that the air in the station was clean, thanks to work- ing air pumps. They rang the station signal to notify people above and to have them send down a cage. All told, 168 souls were lost. Duggan was rightly praised as a hero, and $800,000 in compensation was distributed among the families of the deceased, but there were those who felt that $4,000 a miner was not equal to the life of a loved one, a friend, or a worker. Tensions between the mining companies and labor were already simmering, but the Granite Mountain produced a rolling boil. In August, the conflict would par- tially lead to another of the legends of Montana history: the brutal and still-unsolved murder of socialist agitator Frank Little by parties unknown. OPEN APRIL ORPHAN GIRL HELL ROARIN' GULCH. MINE OCTOBER rough Take an and in e (OPEN IN NOVEMBER WEATHER PERMITTING) OPEN UNDERGROUND TOUR EXPLORE THE STREETS OF PURCHASE TICKETS AT WWW.MININGMUSEUM.ORG 155 MUSEUM WAY • BUTTE, MT 59701 • 406-723-7211 4181 Fallon St., Bozeman, MT • (406) 586-1737 111 E. Mendenhall St., Bozeman, MT • (406) 586-0077 ridgeathletic.com Let the Ridge help you be the best you can be! Contact us today at (406) 586-1737 to find out about our great membership opportunities. YOU COMMITTED TO

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