In the early years of Zeigler, most miners lived near the tracks,
in the little houses with their families, that was known then as “The Patch”
Each day they’d leave with their buckets in hand, and off to work they’d go,
walking out to the Number One Mine, thru the rain and thru the snow
Many of these fathers and their sons, worked daily side by side,
in areas of the dark black coal, that was neither tall nor wide
They carved out their family’s living, in these dark thick walls of coal,
and labored hard every day and night, to mine the “Zeigler Coal”
Down thru the shaft they rode every day, to the bottom of the mine,
to the darken hole far underground, where the sunlight never shines
It was dark as a dungeon everyday, and nearly twice as cold,
and it was here that they spent their day, mining this black “Zeigler Coal”
Deep in the ground in this mine everyday, these men and young boy’s toiled,
as they carefully spotted and then blasted thru, the thick black layers of soil
These men were the “Zeigler Miners,” who worked in the darkness and cold,
and with their aching backs and swollen hands, they mined the “Zeigler Coal”
These men were the pioneers of mining, behind their coal black face,
and they are the hero’s and the legends, that time will never erase
Everyday they worked dangerously hard, in their daily race against time,
far underground in this forsaken hole, that the company called “the mine”
A lot of good men died underground, too soon before their time,
and the sad news traveled quickly, to other towns and to their mines
There were always the cries of sorrow, and the sting of the lasting pain,
that resembled the quill of a crying whistle, from a nearby passing train
Many memorials stand today, that salute those who answered their call,
and prayers are said nearly everyday, for those who gave it their all
And for all the brave coal miners today, who mine our nations coal,
Let us give thanks unto the good Lord, and ask him to protect their soul

Raymond D. Null

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