Opinion: Chile miners’ predicament strikes chord deep in his soul

Talk about it

The enormity of the story grows on a person as time passes, this current-events tale of 33 miners trapped nearly half a mile under the earth in a copper mine in Chile.

When I first heard the news earlier this week that rescuers had made contact with the miners and that all of them were alive after 17 days, I listened to the story and then went about my business. After work that day, I had time to consider the event. If I’d been trapped in that mine with those workers, I’d have been underground now for two and onehalf weeks. That’s a lifetime.

In the time they’ve been underground, I’ve worked 13 days, served as pallbearer at a funeral, been to a pow-wow in Lower Brule, hung out with the granddaughters a couple of times and watched a piece of ground in my side yard turn from bare dirt to a fairly thick stand of grass. I’ve also experienced temperatures ranging from nearly 50 degrees one night to an official 104 degrees Sunday afternoon.

I imagine the climate doesn’t change all that much half a mile under solid rock. The time I was down to the 7,800-foot level of the Homestake Gold Mine, I was taken aback by how warm (in spite of the massive ventilation system) and humid it was, and how water dripped constantly.

I was also taken aback by how empty the darkness was at that depth. Our guide had us turn off our hard-hat lanterns for just a few seconds down there.

Johnny Cash sang, “It’s dark as a dungeon way down in the mine,’’ but he didn’t describe the half of how utterly black it was. Even knowing there were other human beings all around me, I felt cut off from the whole world.

I gather, without really knowing, that the trapped miners in Chile have at least some light. Even so, they’re in a place that is nothing but rock all around. Mustn’t that work at the nerves as time passes?

The story on Tuesday said Christmas may be here before rescuers are able to drill a hole big enough to reach and rescue the miners. We haven’t even gotten our Christmas catalogs yet, that’s how far away that holiday is.

There’s Labor Day, Native American Day, Halloween, Veterans Day and Thanksgiving, not to mention Hobo Day, before those workers can expect to be rescued.

And when the rescue tunnel does reach them, they’ll be hauled one by one to the surface.

When I heard that bit of news, my first thought was, “If I were down there, there’s no way I’d be the last guy out of the pit.’’

This crew of 33 miners undoubtedly includes one or more workers who will volunteer, even insist, on being the last one saved. I admire people like that.

It’s possible there are situations in which I could be one of them — last guy off a sinking ship, for example, or last person lifted by helicopter from the side of a mountain. But there’s no way I could be the single, solitary, last lonely person down in the bottom of a pit. I couldn’t even survive an MRI without meds.

The notion that rescuers have made contact with the trapped workers but won’t be able to reach them for four full months kind of shows the limits of our power to control natural forces.

We think we’re in charge of nature. Much of the time, within poorly-identified parameters, we are. A major blizzard, tornado or earthquake show when we aren’t.

The Army Corps of Engineers controls the flow of the Missouri River, until a prolonged drought empties the basin or abnormally heavy rain and snow fill the reservoirs to overflowing. Miners move tons and tons of rock deep underground day after day, but the machines they have for the rescue mission in Chile require four months to cover half a mile. That’s an eternity in a high-tech world.

I know none of the miners or their families, but I pray for them all.

Tags: terry woster, wednesdays with woster, opinion