Full forty years ago a poor auburn haired Scotch lad sat and watched the workings of the Waterless Pit, at Clonie, whose daily output was 50 tons of coal that was placed in quarter-ton wagons, which little jacks drew down to the sea coast some five miles away. [This must be in Scotland] The little watcher was about ten years old and yet the sight left an impression on his youthful mind that two score years have not even blurred.

As the oldest son of a poor miner he had none of the advantages in the way of securing an education that his american cousin of today enjoys.  Yet he was a good student 'though he did most of his studying in the mine by the light of his pit lamp.  Having become a practical miner and served a term in the railroad shops at Edinburg, he was placed in charge of the hoisting engines at a Dunfermline coal shaft before he had attained his majority.  but it was not until after he had married a Scotch lass and come to this country a second time, in 1863, that an opportunity was afforded him to show his abilities as a mining engineer.

He started in as hoisting engineer for the Shafton Coal company at its shaft on the Pennsylvania road, near Irwin, the first of its kind west of the Allegheny mountains; but, it wasn't long until he was the superintendent.  The plant was sadly out of repair, and a heavy debt rested on the company.  Under his efficient management repairs followed rapidly and the output so increased that not only was the debt wiped out but the handsome dividends paid sent the stock booming to a figure never dreamed of by the almost disheartened holders.

After fifteen years of faithful work there he was placed in charge of the Carnegie Monastery coke works, near Latrobe, and when, six years ago, his employers' coal and coke interests were consolidated with the H.C. Frick coke.......................................................................................................................
mammoth Standard works.  Here, during 1886-87, he built the new shaft, which well deserves the name of "Model of the Region" and bids fair to  make the reputation of its maker world-wide.  Readers of The Journal need no introduction to the builder; for, his name is Robert Ramsay.

Some two years ago, before the Leisenring works were sold out to the Frick company, Supt. John Taggart presented his men at their No. 1 shaft with medals after they had broken the coal hoisting record in this region by putting out 1,003.50 bushel wagons in 9 hours and 24 minutes actual running time.  Under the agree-ment the breakers of this record got the trophies and the new Standard shaft boys soon won them by hoisting 1,047  60-bushel wagons in 8 hours and 47 minutes.  But on Friday last they determined to see if they could not break their own record, and as a result beat that of the world, 1,252 wagons in 9 hours, made at the Nottingham anthracite shaft, near Wilkesbarre, this state.

The start was to be made at exactly 6 a.m. and that hour found every man at his post.  In the big bright and clean engine room stood Chief Engineer Johns Hawkey with his right hand grasping the lever, calmly waiting for the automatic air whistle to tell that the first wagon wa on the cage ready to be drawn to the top of the tipple; while his faithful assistant, Wilson Boyer, was close at hand to take his turn.  At the bottom of the shaft were Cager Terrence Donnelly and his assistant, James Duffy.  Above waited the tipplemen, Daniel Lowstetter, Thomas Riley, John Altman and George Bowersock.  On the dinky larry engines were William Snyder, William Hershberger and Emanuel Mullard. In the pit with the 400 or more busy miners were:  Boss Driver William Ramsay, who had an encouraging word to say to each of the thirty-two men under him, and Track Foreman Dick Burns, who had just finished an inspecting tour of the roads.  In command of this little army underground was Pit Boss John Hart who, with the assistance of John Whitfield, had few orders to issue, for few were needed.  Everybody was ding his best.

Promptly at 6 the signal was given and up the shaft the first wagon shot, quickly followed by another as the descending cage reached the bottom and received the waiting load only to be whirled to the tipple and its contents poured into the bins.  There were no spurts, no jerks or jars of machinery, only that regularity of clockwork as if mind and matter ran together in one well-oiled groove.

And when the run was over and 340 happy men all drawn to the mouth of the shaft it was found that the day's work of 9 hours and 19 minutes footed up the wonderful total of 1, 259  60-bushel wagons, 75,340 bushels, over 3, 021 tons, or enough, when turned into coke, to loaden 120 cars with 17 tons to the car.  The world's record had been broken and as the more than pleased superintendent congratulated his faithful employee he smiled his satisfaction over the thought that what, when done in a day, had seemed wonderful to his youthful fancy the work of his brain had accomplished in less that 7 minutes.
 
 
 
 

Contributed by cousin Barbara!
 

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