An excerpt from the novel “The Crows’ Omen,” written by Jerry Potocnik

Ian was at his desk when he heard the whistle off in the distance. He knew instantly it was from the Bird Dog, and his mind went straight to William. He ran outside and rushed up to Main, looking west toward Central’s building. Men were running in and out in a frantic rush. Mr. Fletcher, the head of all mining operations for the company, sent a young man sprinting hard to find Ian. They met at the corner. “There’s been an accident,” the messenger said. “Mr. Fletcher wants you to come quickly.” 

The inspector raced back to his office, yanked open his desk drawer, and removed a large woolen scarf. He also grabbed three safety lamps from the top of the filing cabinet, then followed the young man back to Central. As they got there, a rider on horseback came racing through town. He yelled out, “There was an explosion at the Bird Dog!” then rode off to get the doctors. Just then, Marion Fletcher came out the door and rushed to his automobile parked in front. He motioned for Ian to get inside.

Ten minutes later, the men arrived at the mine. Even before the car stopped, Ian leapt out of the seat and raced toward the first landing, darting between people as he wove through the crowd. Mary saw him coming and screamed, “Ian!” He fought his way to her. When they met, he grabbed her by the shoulders and saw the terror in her eyes. He felt fear course through her body. She was crying. “He’s down there, Ian! Please help him!”

“I will,” Ian said, then rushed past her and made his way to the front of the crowd. 

The superintendent was bent over the shaft collar, listening for sounds below. He straightened up when the inspector arrived. “The smoke’s real thick, Ian,” Mr. Riley said. “It’s too dangerous for anyone to go down there right now.” Ian ignored the warning and removed the woolen scarf from his pocket. He began wrapping it around his head.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m goin’ down,” the inspector said. He was irritated he had to explain it.

“But you can’t. You won’t be able to breathe.”

Ian ignored the warning. “Where’s the pit committee?” he asked.

The superintendent looked at him with surprise. “There is no pit committee. They’re all on strike.”

Ian wanted to berate the man for not training new people for times of crisis, but there wasn’t any time. “Does the cage still work?” he asked; Mr. Riley nodded. “Good. When I get down there, each time I bell the cage, bring it up, then remove whatever’s on it and send it back down. Got it?”

The man nodded again, then told the inspector what he knew. “The best we can tell, there’s at least a dozen men still down there. Several came up the ladder in the ventilation shaft. Carl’s trying to get a better count now.” Ian asked about William, but the superintendent’s expression said it all.

Meanwhile, a large group of the black miners were standing a short distance away. They hadn’t been involved in the blasts, since the white workers always went down first. Poor, Sol and many others watched as women and children fretted and wailed over their loved ones. Poor felt anxious, even restless, like something had to be done. The feeling overwhelmed him. It was the sign he’d been waiting for. He looked at Sol. “Come on, we gotta help those men,” he said, motioning with his whole body. There was an unwavering look in his eye, but Sol didn’t understand. “Ya ’member what I said ‘bout God sendin’ us here for a reason?” Poor continued. “Well, this is it.”

Sol was doubtful. “Ya sure ’bout that?” he asked. He could hardly believe this was the plan after all these months, risking their lives in the dust and the damp.

But Poor insisted, “Think about it. You were supposed to be on that K&T train, but God put you with me instead. He had a reason, and this is it! Ya gotta trust me. He’s tellin’ us we need to go help those men!”

Sol still wasn’t entirely sure, but he trusted his friend. Besides, he wasn’t about to let Poor go down there without him. Sol nodded and said, “Let’s go.” Then both men made their way to the first landing. When they got there, they could see Ian pitching supplies onto the cage, though it was hard to see for all the heavy smoke still billowing from the shaft. Poor yelled at the inspector, “We goin’ too!”

Buy a copy of The Crow’s Omen, available at local bookstores, Amazon, or at thecrowsomen.com.