Me and Loretta Lynn

I am proud to be a coal miners granddaughter. My grandfather, Harry, one of his many names, was a coal miner for nearly 40 years. He was born and raised in The Ukraine. Back then everyone called it The Ukraine but I hear now that it's just Ukraine. He immigrated to Canada, first Halifax, Nova Scotia and then to Lethbridge, Alberta. He chose Alberta because that was where all the "high paying" coal mining jobs were. He arrived in the 1920s with the idea of settling in and then sending for his wife and two young daughters. A few years past and not a word back to the old country from Harry. My grandmother, who had the balls of a Clydesdale, sold everything she owned and packed up her two little girls to hunt him down. They came across the Atlantic in the belly of a boat from Odessa to Halifax never seeing the light of day because they were all too seasick. He was found in Lethbridge, Alberta "shacked-up" with another young Ukrainian woman. Those Alberta nights can be long and cold and lonely. My grandmother immediately kicked that (loosely translated from Ukrainian) "home-wrecking whore" to the curb, probably read Harry the riot act with few punches thrown in as punctuation and the two went on to produce a much-loved son and live to celebrate 50 years of marriage. They were wonderful grandparents and I am a better person for having been loved by them.

I have been thinking about my Grandpa a lot this weekend for two reasons. His cause of death was a pulmonary embolism and that is what took away Pam Gardner this week at the age of 51. I did not know Pam, but my dear friend Warren knew her well and loved her and so I know I would have loved her too. Also I have been thinking about the Sago miners and their families and while coal mining provided them with economic survival, it will be difficult for them to survive their grief. I'm so sad for the miners and their families. If I were a prayin' gal I would be doing just that.