I began writing this a few weeks ago shortly after Dave and I completed our MSHA training. It is long overdue, but I just finished my thoughts on the subject. So here it is... Comments greatly appreciated.
Robert Service called them Sourdough's. Historians call them prospectors. Alaskans call them neighbors, friends, and family. But in the last week I have come to know the Alaskan independent miner as a being on the threshold of a new era; a reluctant visitor to the ever-changing information age; a frustrated business-man who is losing control of the only formula he's ever known; and, yes, maybe even a dying breed. They are a reality who may prematurely become a page in history, they are a disappearing piece of the Alaska spirit, and their fate may very well lie in the hands of a federal government agency known as MSHA.
Last week, I shared a three day MSHA training class with about 30 lifelong Alaskan miners and, well, they all looked exactly as I pictured they would. Each one was tough, that was certain. Their looks had been shaped by hard work and even harder play. For many of them, it was evident that they had a lifelong tobacco habit and way too many years in the glaring sun. Some of them looked wise. Some of them looked wary. But they all looked like people that I knew. Like they could be my Dad or Uncle or neighbor. And, over the course of three days, I came to find out that their personalities were quite alike as well. Here is what I learned about the independent Alaska Miner:
Alaska miner's are men of their own heart and free will. They are often guarded, self-reliant, determined and adventurous. They are tenacious in times of conflict and witty if the conversation calls for comic relief. They are family-oriented and care for their neighbors and the state of their fellow man. Yet their intense privacy may lead others to believe that they are cranky and ill-humored. They work hard, play hard, and relish their autonomy.
And lets not forget about the mining women either. There were only five other females in the class, some were employed by large mines and some, like me, were miner's wives. But each one seemed strong, energetic, knowledgeable about their jobs, and very willing to learn more. They, too, were bold at times and reserved when they felt the need to be. Each miner in the MSHA class seemed to embody the Alaska spirit and many have, since their careers began, been independently churning their own livelihood out of Alaska's soil.
My first impression of the MSHA class was that it reminded me of the NSTC training that I'd received 10 years prior for a summer "stick-picker" job. If the program seemed like a Deja vu to me, I can't imagine how repetitive it must have felt to my husband, a full-time slope worker who attends safety meetings regularly. We sat through three days of power-point slides and discussions on proper gear and attire, proper safety precautions, and proper procedures to follow should an accident occur. The subject matter of the class was something that we were very used to hearing, although pretty burnt out on re-visiting.
To be fair, MSHA has a very honorable and notable cause: To protect mining employees from dangerous work environments. The federal agency was developed in 1977 and they have indeed made a difference. Mining disaster numbers have gone down significantly and thousands of employees have been spared from working in hazardous conditions. They have made this happen through various programs that promote awareness and prevention. From their own website, "Mine accidents have declined dramatically in number and severity through decades of research, technology, and preventive programs." This is great news for large-scale mine employees. They can rest assured that their employers are taking every safety precaution necessary and, if they are not, well, the watchful eye of MSHA never rests and they will most likely not escape without fines or reprimands, if not entire shut-downs. The large-scale mine employee may find a friend and asset in an agency like MSHA.
However, after leaving our three day training in Fairbanks, I couldn't help but wonder, Where does it fit in with the independent Alaska miner? And I wondered this allowed to my husband as we made the 250 mile drive home. We began discussing the finer points of MSHA, the safety and health hazard prevention that I just mentioned. We agreed that it is helpful to the large-scale mines. But we also discussed the more annoying aspects of their precautions and procedures. For example, when asked at what height are we required to wear a safety harness, MSHA's answer was, "Any height from which there is a potential to fall." OSHA, another occupational government agency, has a very specific 6 feet rule, making it very clear to the worker at which point they need to don a safety harness. However, MSHA left this subject very grey and murky.
Now to those of you who may scoff and say, "What's the big deal? Just wear a safety harness when you need one." Well, this would be my rational too but should MSHA visit Dempsey Mining, there would be a very hefty fine issued if I was at a height that the inspector deemed as having a "potential to fall" without a safety harness.
Hell, I have a potential to fall off of this chair as I write to you all. Should blogging require a safety harness? Well, according to MSHA, if I'm blogging on the work site of Dempsey Mining, then a safety harness is indeed required.
And before you begin to think that someone would have to be crazy to fine us for something so petty, don't be fooled. Our instructor was very clear on this subject: MSHA WILL FINE YOU. They have an agenda and that agenda is to scare mine employer's into submission in order to instill a "safety first" attitude. Here is the problem. No one at Dempsey Mining is employed. We are all self-employed, independent businesses. Each one of us will work a certain amount of hours, and each one of us will get a cut of the gold.
And this is true for many other independent Alaskan miners. Many of them are working in small, self-employed groups, and some are even working completely and utterly alone. These are not large-scale operations. These are small-time businesses just trying to get by and maybe make enough of a comfortable living to retire on. And while these fines may be a slap on the wrist for a large mining operation, they can mean a days-worth, perhaps even a week or month's-worth of work for the small-time miner. A $150 fine isn't small potatoes to these men, they are literally potatoes... meat and potatoes... on their plate... at dinner time. These fines can mean more cash out of their pockets and less food on their table. No one in that class took these fines lightly. So you can imagine how disheartening it was to hear that MSHA will find a reason to fine us, no matter what.
And let me add that the "height subject" was not the only issue in which MSHA was unclear. They had many other grey areas, including one very annoying rule in which they stated that each of their guidelines is, "left up to the interpretation of the inspector." This means that an inspector can come to our work site and inspect each and every one of our safety precautions and, depending on his interpretation of the written guideline, or his mood, or whether or not he's had breakfast or coffee that morning, or if he's really pissed off after bouncing down our 7-mile-long road-from-hell, he can, and probably will, give us a fine for having plastic gas cans instead of metal ones. Or for not properly labeling our anti-freeze so no one mistakes it for a cup of coffee. Or for not wearing my safety harness while blogging from my chair on our active mine site.
In case you haven't noticed from the past ten paragraphs, I have never been one to fully embrace large-scale organizations. I am extremely wary of their true intentions and rarely do I find it easy to put my full trust in any subsidiary of "the man." But before I start sounding a little too much like Fox Mulder, let me just tell you that my suspicion of large establishments is not an uncommon attribute among Alaskans. In fact, I believe many of us share a healthy dose of skepticism when it comes to accepting any newcomer agency into our home, work, or culture. I think it it is good to be cautious and careful when one's lifestyle is interrupted by outside sources. And why not? There is good reason why this place is known as the Last Frontier, and I think our independent attitude has a heck of a lot to do with that. So my husband was not at all surprised when I ranted and raved for about 100 miles during our drive home about the true intentions of MSHA's involvement in the small world of the independent miner.
And while I'm continuing my rant, I would like to add that MSHA's class and follow-up paperwork, is really not that user friendly. As far as Dave and I are concerned, we had no issue hopping onto the internet and going to the MSHA website, finding out class times and signing up. And finding the appropriate mining documents and phone numbers also just took some simple internet surfing. These are important tasks for the conscientious miner who wants to stay within MSHA guidelines, and it proved to be a fairly easy task for two young and computer-savvy, wannabe miners to accomplish.
However, for the older miner, this can be a difficult and confusing process. Phrases like "website surfing" and "emailing" and "printing documents" are simply not part of their vocabulary. When our instructor was asked the question, "Where do I find the paperwork for this? Or the phone number for that office?" He always responded, "On our website." And every time, without fail, my classmates grumbled and groaned and sunk into their chairs and seemed more and more defeated.
You see, after much discussion I found that several of them have rarely, if ever, used a computer. And who can blame them? When would they have found the time or any need to become proficient in the latest PC programs and applications? They are miners. Their livelihood is in the great outdoors. The only time they spend indoors is to sleep and to sell the gold that they just spent a summer digging out of the ground. Their world is not exactly an internet-rich environment. And, in this day and age, where people seem to spend more time staring at the 3 inch screen on their iPhones rather than engaging with actual people, let me just tell you, it was refreshing to hear one of my classmates joke to the instructor, "Computer?! I don't know how to work a computer! Where do you change the oil on those damn things?!" Like I said before, the independent Alaska miner can be witty if the conversation calls for some comic relief.
And, boy, did we all need some comic relief. After three days of rules, regulations, and being told that no matter how hard we tried, how many precautions we took, that MSHA WILL FINE US, no matter what. No if's, and's, or butt's. You can imagine how defeated our entire class felt. And while Dave and I got to go home and put the finishing touches on our internet-accessed paperwork and I got to write on my blog about the downside of government organizations, our older, and more experienced, mining peers had to go home and try to figure out how to access a computer, learn the internet overnight, and try to complete their checklists in order to please an agency that has a notorious rep for never being pleased.
I left MSHA class with more questions and concerns than I did answers. But the most pressing question on my mind was how much of an effect will all of this federal enforcement have on one of Alaska's last independent occupations. Dave and I have to return in a year for an eight hour refresher course. I am hoping to see the same amount of people in the class. If there are less people and the gold prices are the same as this year, well.... let's just say, that I know who to blame for the loss. But if there was anything that I learned in the MSHA training course, it is that the Alaska independent miner is a tough breed. And I have faith in their endurance.
