The Pick Boys

The Cripple Creek Mining District

By Steven Wade Veatch

From old and brittle photographs, 
the faces of young boys look out. 
One puffs on a spit-soaked cigar 
from the corner of his mouth. 
Another scrub-faced boy smiles.
Both pose with the men.

The story is clear—
When a father was killed or disabled,
some boys worked in the mines 
as breadwinners. Other boys quit school 
to follow the adventure of mining. 

They were the pick boys
who ran errands, fetched supplies, 
carried dull drills and picks 
to blacksmiths for sharpening, 
lugged water to thirsty miners,
and tended the donkeys.

They tramped deep underground. 
Timbers creaked and water dripped.
Grime stained their clothes 
from the damp and muddy 
places they worked. 

Endless blackness hovered 
around flickering candlelight. 
Rock dust from drilling, fumes from blasting, 
and smoke from candles burning filled the air. 

Deadly gasses seeped from rocks.

The roar of blasting and the racket 
of drills was constant. Yet they worked 
in deliberate routines to earn their meager pay
in a time and place so different from today.

A Pick Boy at work. This AI image was created by the author
with the assistance of DALL·E and MS Bing.