The 1940s: Coal Provides the Fuel for World War II & the Cold War – 1940-1949

When Japanese bombs rained down on Pearl Harbor that fateful Sunday, December 7, morning, America was surprised but not unprepared. Fierce fighting had been raging throughout Europe beginning in September 1939. Though officially neutral, America began supplying weapons, ships, tanks and raw materials to England and France. The Depression-era New Deal policies that had organized and controlled virtually the entire American economy were incredibly helpful in gearing up manufacturers, coal miners and the general public for the all-out war effort that was ahead.

But as the new decade began, America was still dealing with the Depression. Producer health was weak and economic recovery was still slow and somewhat fragile. Though coal production was increasing and new mines were opening, labor’s much increased power and government regulation had altered the mining dynamic. Until after World War II, coal producers and management were often relegated to a minority voice in decision making as Roosevelt administrators and officials from John L. Lewis’ United Mine Workers increasingly called the shots.

Coal and War 1940-1945

When the decade began, Coal Age Editor Sydney Hale lamented—in a newly streamlined typeface—that though the U.S. was the largest coal producer worldwide and the global leader in using mobile loaders underground, Great Britain “with a distinct and wide edge” was still far ahead in mechanization, producing more than 54% of their total output in 1939 via machine. Even though U.S. mines were healthier than they were the year before, mechanization was still the key to success. “In a year marked by an increase in industrial activity on the one hand, warmer-than normal weather on the other, a twelve-months-long struggle by federal agencies to establish minimum prices and marketing regulations and a six-weeks stoppage of work in the Appalachian region, the bituminous industry finally came through with a 12.6 percent increase in output.” Troubled anthracite, seemingly on the ropes following the collapse of the venerable Philadelphia & Reading Coal & Iron Co. and widespread red ink, also finished the previous decade with a 10.2% production gain year-over-year, finishing at just under 51 million tons.

Though coal was definitely on the rebound, oil, natural gas and other fuel options were becoming increasingly favored. A growing smoke-abatement movement throughout U.S. cities was leading to crackdowns on domestic and industrial coal burning and non-coal fired electrification projects like the new TVA—initially envisioned as mostly hydro-powered—were increasing throughout the nation. Only oil rationing during the war would really stem the inroads of that popular fuel—and then, only temporarily. Fuel-oil rationing in 30 states was first reported by the magazine in October 1942, and reports at the time indicated rationing would spread nationwide as more oil would be diverted into the war effort. Into this void: more coal.

Production continued to increase in 1940 to 512 million tons (combined between anthracite and bituminous). In 1941, with U.S. industries already humming with defense preparation orders, production rose to more than 570 million tons, the highest total since the beginning of the Depression in 1929. Following Pearl Harbor, the U.S. threw itself into an all-out war effort. The question became not what coal had produced, but what was it capable of extracting as experts realized that a greatly increased amount of production would be essential to victory.

Publisher McGraw-Hill, in the January 1942 issue, tasked readers with asking themselves “What can I do?” to help. “A BIG JOB [sic] is what it adds up to, but the industry can do it,” seconded Hale. “Sharing in this confidence, Coal Age also accepts the responsibility of all out service to the industry in carrying out its part of the war effort and planning for the post-war future,” he wrote in the January editorial.

With a long war looming, Hale, in his February 1942 editorial “Peace and War,” chose to reflect on the industry’s overall position. “With 1941 the last year of peace for the United States until victory is achieved, the coal industry can look back to improvements and modernization which give it a good start on the job ahead. Signing of new wage agreements, rising demand and price stabilization cleared the way for accelerated adoption of the modern equipment and practices for the production, preparation and safety so necessary for progress in peace and even more vital in winning the war as soon as possible.”

But going forward the industry still faced several pressing needs: stable manpower, a steady flow of machines and mining materials, a stronger maintenance plan and improvements in the transportation of coal to market. To assist, the federal government granted coal producers priority over many industries to purchase and receive the machines and tools needed for the production surge.

Coal miners, like most Americans, were quick to enlist—so quick that draft boards were asked not to take experienced miners away from the homefront. To combat the labor shortage, the UMWA agreed to change the mandated 35-hour 5-day work-week to a 6-day 42-hour week.

But with the war raging in Europe and the Pacific, Hale also was fighting his own battles—a losing one against terminal cancer. His death was marked with a tender obituary in the September 1942 issue. By all accounts a witty, urbane and widely read man, Hale was “every inch an editor, once he set himself to a task, however large and onerous, no reading was too dull and no effort too great to attain his purpose.” With his passing, the magazine changed formats and longtime associate editor Ivan A. Given took over the reins.

But with each loss, victory seemed a little closer. Accident rates rose in 1942 but by year’s end, with production totals at more than 643 million tons, the industry could proudly proclaim that “coal delivers.” Anthracite enjoyed its best year since 1930 with an output of 59,961,000 tons. Bituminous production hit highs not seen since 1918. In his February 1943 editorial, Given wrote, “Despite natural and expected difficulties in equipment, materials and manpower, coal met all demands for its product and built up one of the biggest stockpiles in history, in addition to taking over the load dropped by oil and natural gas. With the first full year of World War II again demonstrating coal’s position as a basic industry in war, as well as in peace, the industry was accorded appropriate priority assistance in obtaining equipment and materials. At the same time, management and men channeled their efforts toward getting more out of what was on hand or could be acquired. Thus, active installation of new mechanical-mining equipment was supplemented by the adoption of modern auxiliary equipment and up-to-date working methods.”

Production in 1943 increased again and would have been higher if not for a series of contentious and controversial strikes called by John L. Lewis. The strikes led to the federal government seizing and taking over dozens of operations deemed vital to the war effort. With the disruptions, production barely rose to 651 million tons. Shortages loomed as man-power and absenteeism, both before and after the strike, took their toll.

But following the strikes and with government firmly in charge, production in 1944 shattered all previous totals and reached a high that would not be exceeded for more than 30 years. Tasked with producing 620 million tons of bituminous and 66 million tons of anthracite in 1944, America’s miners pulled together and literally won a combined total of more than 683 million tons out of the ground that blood-soaked year. “How did coal measure up in 1944?” asked Given in the February 1945 year in review. “The record is clear: the greatest annual tonnage in history, compounded of a new high for bituminous and a 13-year record for anthracite. These totals were achieved in spite of the continued losses of manpower and increasing age of employees.” Though producers would nearly equal those numbers once in 1947 (682 million tons), not until 1976 would that number be exceeded.

If 1944 was the “Year of Invasion” as Given termed it, then 1945 was the “Year of Total Victory.” To get there, for the first three quarters of the year the pace of production did not slow from the year before. In February, 48-hour work-weeks were initiated by Presidential Order as manpower shortages got worse. Not until first the Germans in April and then the Japanese were defeated in August 1945, did miners slow their pace. But peace finally came and by the end of the year, with many GIs coming home and heading back underground, production totals fell to just over 632 million tons.

Producers Caught in a Cross-fire Between Lewis’ UMWA and New Deal Policies

By 1940, almost 95% of America’s mines were unionized—and virtually all of these mines were represented by the UMWA. Lewis, however, was intent on more than just organizing coal miners, he envisioned a nearly 100% unionized economy with, as many of his critics including Coal Age would say, him at the head of the new national union. As he grew more powerful, Lewis grew bolder. Roosevelt’s pro-labor stance encouraged Lewis to help organize steel and auto workers and he helped lead them to tremendous victories through the end of the 1930s. Other industries followed, joining together in the new Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO).

But during the run-up to the election of 1940, a hostile Lewis broke with Roosevelt over the Democrat’s “international” stance that he believed would lead to war. Through his perch as head of the new CIO, Lewis encouraged labor to vote for Republican Wendell Willkie who promised to keep America out of the growing European war. But though labor loved Lewis, they loved Roosevelt more, voting in droves to elect him to an unprecedented third term.

Just prior to Pearl Harbor, in the July 1941 issue, the magazine reported that southern bituminous operators, who had been holding out against new contracts with the UMWA and were facing strikes and labor actions, capitulated to their demands due to the recently declared national defense emergency. In the January 1942 issue, the editors reported another victory for Lewis. “In a decision arrived on December 7, the three-man board named by President Roosevelt to arbitrate the union shop dispute in the captive coal mines..[mostly coking coal producing mines owned by steel companies]…reversed the decision of the National Defense Mediation Board and ruled that all workers in the captive mines should be required to join the United Mine Workers as a condition of employment…99.5% of all the coal miners in the country were now on its rolls.” John L. Lewis, Dr. John R. Steelman, on leave of absence from his post as director of the U.S. Conciliation Service and acting as chairman of the committee voted in favor of the agreement. Dissenting was Benjamin F. Fairless, president of the United States Steel Corp.

However, once war broke out the government began demanding even more of the coal industry: its men. Thousands of replacement workers were needed as absenteeism and enrollment in the military were taking a toll. Though the selective service would eventually become more selective during the war and draft less miners, manpower was a constant challenge.

To help, as reported in the October 1942 edition, the UMWA agreed at its convention to a longer working schedule and a six-day work week. But in the same issue, Given wondered, with new wage contracts coming up in 1943, how well operators were prepared to enter the negotiation period? Regardless of operators’ positions, without a contract, the UMWA was ready to do battle of its own.

In the February 1943 issue, the magazine reported on a wildcat walk-out by some 17,000 anthracite workers in January. The nation’s worst labor stoppage since Pearl Harbor, after several days of demonstrations, the miners were ordered back to work by President Roosevelt who cited the lost production and its effect on the war effort. Though the labor action was confined to Pennsylvania, it was but the opening skirmish in a longer struggle. Work weeks grew to 48-hours that spring for most miners and the UMWA announced it was beginning to organize supervisors and mine officials into the new Mine Officials Union of America.

Still without a nationwide contract, a larger, nationwide “stoppage” was announced in May and, after a short reprieve, a second one in June due to a breakdown of contract negotiations. Lewis ordered his men back to work after a few days under another threat from Roosevelt. Though most workers returned on June 7, the government began initiating a series of mine seizures, taking over the day-to-day operations from private industry. Lewis had forced the administration into a difficult position. Though by this time Roosevelt was beginning to seethe with antipathy toward Lewis, he needed labor’s vote and support—and most of his administration did indeed side with them. But if the miners struck, dozens of other crafts might as well, courting disaster for the war effort.

Citing national emergency, Roosevelt ordered powerful Interior Secretary Harold Ickes to begin taking over mines that spring. “The coal-mine seizure reflects far more than an attempt to cope with the grave production problem precipitated by a defiant labor leader. Rather, when the administration chose this way out, it confessed its complete failure to capitalize on an unparalleled opportunity for developing a workable labor-relations policy that would safeguard not only the rights of employer and employee but also the rights of the government and the nation as a whole,” wrote Given.

Unlike during World War I when miners strikes were met with troops who forced workers back into the mines at bayonet point, seizure forced mine owners to accept most union conditions. Mine operators were further threatened with outright nationalization of their assets if work stoppages continued. Lewis, though facing tremendous threats, continued to order his men to hold out, slow down and not comply with labor board recommendations. With no quick end in sight, the road to nationalization seemed set. The industry, as reflected in the pages of Coal Age, was not pleased. “How did we arrive at the point where one man could defy government—and the government could find no way out but seizure? The inescapable answer is politics—the brand of politics that favors one class over another. The New Deal and John L. Lewis, in fact, are the combination that has presented the nation with one of its most difficult problems at a time when it is in war for survival,” wrote Given in another editorial.

Through July 1, work stoppages had “cost the nation 27 million tons of coal and 170,000 tons of steel, enough for 43,500 P38 Lightning Fighters, or 16,000 B17 Bombers, or 6,000 medium tanks, or 38 Liberty ships.” Lewis—by thwarting the war effort—was seen by many as a traitor to his nation. And many were calling for a rope. Coal Age quoted others’ harshest words against Lewis and stuck to a safer road of mere editorial fury, publishing long pieces questioning Lewis’ long-term intentions, his loyalty and his humanity.

Though miners were back on the job through summer, strikes broke out again in October and all mines producing more than 50 tons a day were seized a second time on November 1. Once again, wrote the editors, “Lewis put power for himself ahead of the war effort.” Seizure was initially supposed to last no more than 60 days after the restoration of the productive efficiency of the mines with Interior Secretary Ickes once again designated to take possession and operate the mines. Management was permitted to continue its managerial functions to the maximum degree possible. In total, by December 1943, there had been four work stoppages and two property seizures nationwide. The government, by the end of the year, was running the coal industry and, at the time, no one knew how long that would continue or if permanent nationalization was next. Just the same, some steel mills closed briefly during the year.

Throughout November, with government employees running the mines, Lewis’ UMWA negotiated with coal operators. Many were quick to sign contacts and more than 230 companies settled by December 3—most in fact sooner. Southern Appalachian and Alabama operators held out longer, but eventually capitulated. One of the problems being dealt with nationwide that all groups could agree with was a lack of manpower. Coal miners, all conceded, were working longer, harder and producing more with less and less hands. On December 3, the Coal Mines Administration formally asked for draft deferments of all mine workers going forward.

In all, the mine seizures lasted roughly 13 months through the end of June 1944. The stability brought about was welcome to most of the public, though many questioned that methods used to get there. “With the end of Act II of the ‘Seizure Follies’ in sight at the first of June there were few to lament its departure from the boards,” wrote Given in his July 1944 editorial. One of the precedents seizure had set “was grabbing the property of an industry to settle a labor dispute despite the fact that the owners of that property were not at fault. In the coal case, the defiant parties—the officials of the United Mine Workers—were actually rewarded for that defiance by being granted much of what they demanded…” One of the major issues of contract contention throughout World War II was portal to portal pay. Operators objected to the notion that travel time—commuting from the washhouse to the face, was time they needed to compensate. In the end, the labor friendly government sided against them.

The controversial series of walkouts and seizures, and the public’s divided reaction would prove a tipping point in the power of John L. Lewis, the UMWA and American industrial unions. The Taft-Hartley Act of 1947 limiting union powers would be a direct result of the contentious war-time strike. However, in the short run, with government either running the mines or keeping the labor peace, output increased to astronomical levels. The 684,455,000 tons produced in 1944 was the greatest volume of coal ever raised in the United States.

In early 1945, Lewis again threatened further work stoppages. In this round of negotiations, his opening gambit began with the boast that the UMWA would seek a $0.10 royalty on each ton mined to be placed into a union run welfare fund. They also declared the right to strike at will. “Even the resounding words in which they are cloaked fail to conceal the real purposes of these demands—a war chest for organizing backed up by ability to shut off fuel and raw material at any time,” wrote an enraged Given in the March 1945 editorial. “Contract by fiat is already an accomplished fact in coal mining and has given the industry no reason to anticipate that government officials making such contracts know or care what happens to the industry as a result.”

That issue the magazine published a long article analyzing what they felt Lewis really was after: the creation of a massive slush fund to help foster a totally unionized economy that could, at will, cut off the raw materials needed for existence. Or worse, that the 10-cent per ton tax could fund something of a Bolshevik revolution with Lewis at the head of the vanguard.

Safety During the War Years

Though remembered for other reasons, 1941 also marked the enactment of the federal mine inspection law, effective May 7, resulting in direct national government participation in accident-prevention work. The December issue contained in a “Special Safety Section” about what “that field is and how the United States Bureau of Mines is organizing to carry out its increased responsibilities and functions under the act. The section even included a “safety quiz” for fellow employees.

Though the Bureau had been making mine inspections for more than 30 years, “heretofore such inspections have been made intermittently and on a purely voluntary basis in so far as the mine management was concerned. Under the new law, a periodic basis is set up and the inspections carry a clear and specific legal authorization.” Penalties for denying inspection included fines up to $500, imprisonment for up to 60 days or both.

Not coincidentally, that year would mark an all-time best safety record for producers. The 1941 death rate per million tons of coal produced reached the lowest point yet recorded. Best, bituminous miners achieved their historic low fatality rate yet while increasing tonnage by more than 45 million tons. Though over 1,200 coal miners lost their lives, safety had improved.

That trend, however, would be reversed the following year. In the September 1942 issue, the editors reported the accident rate was increasing. “That fact should be a danger signal not to be overlooked even in the present hurly-burly of getting out the coal, as injuries and fatalities are directly reflected in lower efficiency and increased cost, not to mention loss of much-needed manpower for the war effort.” With many experienced miners fighting overseas and many newer, younger and older workers taking their places, accident rates increased throughout the year. Given lamented that “The evidence points strongly” that “war and its attendant dislocation of normal operation” was resulting “in the sacrifice of safety gains.” By the end of the year, loss of life rose 17% against a 12.5% gain in output. Total number of fatalities for 1942 was 1,482, more than 200 more deaths than the year before. Increasing casualty rates in the mines that year and carrying over into the next partially led to the controversial strikes of 1943.

This decrease in safety happened in the second full year of the Bureau of Mines’ new position as federal safety inspector. During 1942 agents visited 886 mines in 20 states employing approximately 258,000 men and producing more than 280 million tons. Roughly 40%-45% of producing mines were inspected. Fatality rates were virtually unchanged the following year, as another 1,471 men were killed as production increased slightly. Death rates were high again in 1944, but by the time the war ended in August of 1945, accident rates were falling again. By then 697 men had lost their lives in the mines, those figures were much improved compared to the 903 fatalities by August 1944.

Coal Age’s “Coal for Victory Awards”

Presented with the support and cooperation of the federal Solid Fuels Administration for War, Coal Age created the “Coal for Victory” awards as an incentive to greater wartime production, a recognition of the contribution of the coal industry to the war effort, and as a stimulus to permanent improvement methods. Two awards were offered beginning in 1944. The Victory Production Award was offered to each mine or colliery that increased their fresh-mined output in 1944 by 6.5% or more over 1943 totals. The Production Efficiency Award was presented to each mine or colliery that increased their fresh mined output per manshift by 10% or more.

In the March 1945 issue, Coal Age announced that “for outstanding service to the nation,” the managements and men at 114 bituminous mines and two anthracite collieries had won awards. Fifty-five mines were double winners, and received both awards. Efficiency awards went to 15 additional mines. The bituminous properties receiving awards contributed more than 7.8 million tons, or more than 25% of the increase of 30 million tons of production in 1944 year over year.

Winners of the award gave several reasons for their ability to increase tonnage and efficiency: Nearly half listed management and mechanization as major factors in their results, followed by employee cooperation and better supervision. Other reasons listed were improvements in mining methods, more stripping at deep mines, reduced absenteeism and fewer work stoppages and longer working times, among others. The board of judges, following presentation, addressed the 116 winners. “We extend our sincere congratulations on a notable and substantial contribution to the cause of Allied victory.”

Surface Mining During the War Years

“New operations, new stripping and loading equipment, new drilling equipment and practices and increased used of automotive transportation, along with major increases in unit capacity and substantial gains in diesel engine installations, were features of an active year in bituminous stripping,” wrote the editors of surface mining in 1940. The Midwest was still the leader in stripping activity, though, for 1940 at least, most of the growth had occurred in smaller strip mines outside the Midwest with producers there increasingly using 2- to 3-cu yd shovels with longer booms and handles.

For the March 1943 issue, associate editor Lambur reviewed operations at the Sandown lignite mine in Rockdale, Texas. Owned by the McAlester Fuel Co., only 100,000 tons was being produced at the small mine, one of the few remaining lignite operations left in the state. Although Texas had an estimated 23 billion tons of lignite at the time, the vast amounts of natural gas and crude oil being cheaply produced in the southwest rendered coal uncompetitive throughout much of the region.

Underground Production 1940-45

For the January 1940 issue, Coal Age returned to New Orient in West Frankfort, Ill., to review the mine’s improved transportation system. With a normal daily output of 10,000 tons, miners had to deliver an average of 2,300 loaded mine cars to the shaft bottom every seven hours. “Realizing that the haulage system is the life stream of the mine, the property has been developed so that a minimum of main-line entry will have to be maintained during the life of the operation.” To handle the large number of loaded and empty trips (almost 14,000 per day), both loaded and empty haulageways in separate entries were employed. But with all of that rail, New Orient started to weld rail joints—making ribbon rail—in early 1936, decades before modern railroads began doing the same on today’s mainlines.

Though rail dominated the industry, in the February issue the editors reported on the growing increase in rubber-tired haulage units behind loading machines. “From three such units 3½ years ago, the total in the hands of operators had grown to 99 at the end of 1939.” Rubber-tired haulage was originated by James H. Fletcher, a Chicago consulting engineer, and first installed in 1936. Fletcher equipment was followed by the Joy shuttle car, first installed by the Hanna Coal Co. of Ohio in 1938. Rubber-tired haulage would grow throughout the decade.

Mechanization was also allowing older mines to be rehabilitated and operated more efficiently. In the April 1940 issue, Given reported on the reopening of the Jefferson No. 20 mine of the Consolidated Coal Co. in Nason, Ill. Opened in 1921, it became a casualty of the Depression and had not worked in six years when Consol purchased it in April 1938. Reconditioning began later that year and by 1940, producing from a 740-ft shaft—the deepest in Illinois—Consol had another modern plant in operation.

Also in that issue, assistant editor Charles H. Lambur Jr reported on a series of tests of new du Pont hydraulic breaking units. At the Consol New Monarch mine in Herrin, Ill., one hydraulic unit was in operation breaking down coal for two loading machines, each averaging 300-320 tons per shift, necessitating the breaking down of around 10 faces in a 7-hour shift. The process, “in a semi-commercial stage of development, employs tubes expanded by oil pressure.”

Mechanization increased throughout 1940. Almost 2,000 mobile loaders were in service nationwide. More than 1,500 conveyors were introduced that year alone, along with at least 155 more rubber-tired haulage units. This would increase further throughout the war years.

1942 saw the introduction and use of locomotive “radios” for communicating from the cab of the locomotive with the dispatcher, as established at the Frances mine of the Frances Fuel Co. near Monongah, W.Va. Increased signaling and bigger haulage cares were also being deployed. “Just now the coal industry is passing through the same revolution as did the railroads a generation ago and is recognizing that heavier tracks, better ballast and stronger equipment will make greater speeds and longer trips possible, yet with fewer accidents.”

During the height of the war years, some information became restricted and technical information, for a brief time, was somewhat restricted. However, with work stoppages, mine seizures, a manpower shortage and a war to be won, Coal Age focused, briefly, in other directions. But with victory on the horizon, editorial content opened up again.

In the September 1945 issue, associate editor R.R. Richart, and R.C. Oliver, president of the Oliver Coal Co., Somerset, Colo., jointly penned a piece treating mechanization at the new Oliver operation. “Loaders and shuttle cars are setting a fast pace in the development of the new mine, not yet a year old, located near Somerset, Gunnison County in western Colorado. One operating unit, comprising a loader and two shuttle cars manned by a 10-man crew, averages approximately 375 tons per shift…Like other properties, the Oliver mine has experienced a shortage of manpower. It too has learned that it pays to man one territory fully at the expense of another. As a result a 10-man crew in one territory, where two Type 42 D-7 Joy shuttle cares serve a 7 BU Joy loader, consistently produces almost 400 tons per shift. About 14 cuts are loaded out per shift.”

With the World War over, the coal industry continued to grow and Coal Age was once again freely able to share this good news with its readers.

Hot War to Cold War, 1946-49

Compared to the war years that preceded it, 1946 was a down year for coal. Marred again by strikes, slowdowns and less demand, production fell to 594 million tons. But the following year, miners rebounded to wartime levels. “The bituminous industry, hoisting itself by its own bootstraps over some tough obstacles, broke all peacetime production records with an estimated 619 million tons in 1947, up 16% above the prior year’s tonnage and enough to meet surging industrial and domestic needs,” wrote Given in the February 1948 review issue. Incredibly, total actual production of 682 million tons could have been even higher were it not for a nationwide shortage of rail cars that hit some mines as much as three and four days per week.

On the labor front, there were work slow downs and grumbling after the UWMA lost in front of the Supreme Court and the restrictive Taft-Hartley Act passed Congress over President Truman’s veto. There was also a week-long shutdown in April to honor and mourn the deaths of 111 miners in Centralia, Ill., that April. Following the explosion, Interior Secretary Krug closed 518 mines for emergency inspections and full production was slow to follow. But, by year’s end, the nation’s mines would extract more coal than ever before save for 1944, though 1,165 miners would perish that year.

But 1947 was coal’s last real high water mark until the 1970s. Just 1 million tons below 1944’s record production level, oil, natural gas, railroad purchases of diesel locomotives, continued labor strikes and political wrangling would take their collective tolls on coal’s markets. Through the late 1940s, Coal Age foretold of the coming “Coal Age of Tomorrow” and the many new possibilities the industry had to capture new markets by turning coal into oil or natural gas. All the while the industry lobbied to keep hydro and atomic energy from being used to generate electricity, jousted with Lewis’ UMWA, and stumbled ahead in the competitive race for fuel of the future.

On the government-relations front, 1947 was also marked by the end—on June 30—of federal seizure of coal properties. This was timed with the legislative curtailment of most wartime government controls of the industry. Though mine inspections conducted by the Bureau and other activities would continue, gone were pricing controls and, it was hoped, the specter of government takeover or—worse—complete nationalization of the industry.

Though the industry employed more than half a million people, what may have helped most to create the post-war tonnage record was the addition of more machines underground. That, coupled with the maturation of a number of high-production mines that went into service during the war plus relative labor peace showed what coal was capable of producing. A new record in tons per machine shift was set on September 25 that year at Mine 207, owned by Consol of Kentucky. Using a crawler loader serviced by two shuttle cars, and mining in a height of 60 in., a 14-man crew pulled out 1,466 tons in a single 8-hour shift. Rubber-tired haulage and the use of belt conveyors again racked up substantial gains in 1947.

Another new loading record was set in June 1948 when a 19-man crew at Consol of West Virginia’s Mine No. 63, Monongah, mined 1,536 tons in their shift. In setting this mark, the crew loaded out 35 cuts of 8½ ft Pittsburgh coal using three shuttle cars, one Joy 11BU loader and a Sullivan 10RU cutter. However, while the continued introduction of loading, haulage and other machines would help keep costs-per-ton lower, as the post-war economy evolved into a new normal, industry was faced with the same problem they had following World War I’s rapid expansion: overcapacity.

One major difference between the eras, however, was the political strength of the union movement. That difference was pointed up by John L. Lewis’ audacious announcement at the UMWA ’48 convention that he would impose his own work-sharing plan on the industry if renewed price-cutting threatened employment and wage rates in the postwar future. “Existing division among coal operators, with their lack of qualified trusted leadership to cope with the industry’s problems on a national basis, has forced the UMWA to be prepared to lead the way once again to stabilize the operation in the eventuality the declining market for coal softens to the point where a repetition of the cut-throat competition of the ‘20’s and early ‘30s is threatening.”

Though industry responded with a no-so polite collective “no thanks,” Coal Age’s editors were quick to point out that Lewis’ instincts about the industry may not be so far off. In a February 1949 piece, they looked at how much excess capacity existed at the time and what could be done by the industry to protect employees, customers and stockholders. “In 1947, production in the bituminous industry was 624 million; capacity, 755 million. The spread increased in 1948 and included a substantial rise in new deep or strip-mine productions high in quality…thus increasing pressure on lower quality coal producers…The resultant pressure on prices, accompanied by curtailment or closing of a number of operations, undoubtedly precipitated the Lewis statement.” But, the danger of overproduction was out there just the same, and already some of the more marginal, higher cost or least prepared operations were closing—even as some mines curtailed production from six to five days per week.

By the end of 1948—“A pretty good year”—production was down slightly to a still robust 657 million tons. More than 70 new high production underground bituminous mines opened that year along with 40 strip mines adding a combined additional 220,000 tons of daily production—the highest rate of increase since before the war. But spring work stoppages growing out of the UMWA pension dispute, a drop off in exports from 43 million tons in 1947 to around 20 million tons that year and a 7.2% drop in railroad consumption accounted for the slight falloff in 1948. Though markets absorbed the still high output, production was about to go over a cliff in 1949 as Lewis made good on those threatened strikes. Fighting between union and management in turn curtailed output and raised prices and with America’s economy modernizing rapidly, the railroads, the public and much of the nation’s industry turned increasingly to the coal’s more predictable competitors: natural gas and oil.

By the time 1949 was over, all that could be done was survey the damage. Lamenting that “by all the signs, 1949 was to have been a good year for coal,” but then “there was Mr. Lewis. He called his miners out for two weeks in March, a week in June, and for over seven weeks from September into November. From July 5 to September 19 and following December 5, he put his miners on a three-day week.” Production fell dramatically to only 481 million tons combined between anthracite and bituminous—the lowest total since 1939. In his October editorial, an angry Given summarized not only the moment but the whole era since the implementation of the New Deal “the federal government has moved into the field of labor relations with the ostensible goal of achieving the desired stabilization. But, has it been achieved? The answer, as far as the coal mining industry is concerned, is an emphatic ‘No.’ As of 1949, the industry is further from stabilization of relations between employer and employee than at any time in history—and is suffering accordingly.”

Demand was beginning to wane already, but with coal now more expensive and not always available, the editors asked “How much damage was done to coal’s markets? How many customers, having switched to other fuels, can be persuaded to return to coal? What can we do to win customers back and secure our markets?” That question was to be asked throughout the 1950s as producers struggled from one challenge to the next.

Tomorrow’s Coal Age: Just around the Corner

Beginning in the 1920s, as the coal industry began to compete with oil and natural gas, producers funded research to make coal more viable. One major breakthrough occurred early on in Germany when two chemical engineers, Franz Fischer and Hans Tropsch, developed a formula and system to make a diesel-grade oil from coal. Too expensive to compete with the flood of cheap oil that coal faced at the time, the FT process would eventually be deployed on a massive scale by the Nazi regime during WWII. Germany, cut off from the rich oil deposits of the Middle East and northern Africa, turned to its coal resources as a way to fuel the Wehrmacht. By 1943, both U.S. producers and the Allied governments had taken notice of Germany’s success.

In a long series of articles beginning in April 1943, Coal Age began describing the potential of coal to fuel America’s economy throughout the postwar period. In that issue, the magazine published a long piece by the immensely powerful Secretary of the Interior, and wartime Petroleum Administrator and Solid Fuels Coordinator for War, Harold Ickes. Perhaps the second most influential person in the Roosevelt administration behind only the president himself, Ickes was tasked with essentially running the economy throughout both the Depression and World War. A famous curmudgeon, Ickes also had a large hand in developing long-term fuel polices and much of the postwar economy as well.

Like many, Ickes firmly believed that America’s vast coal reserves would allow the nation to forever be energy independent. And he aimed to ensure that, in times of war and struggle, coal would be available as the backbone of the nation’s economy. “A new industry based on the use of coal looms on the not-too-distant horizon. In its establishment I hope soon to lend an official hand,” Ickes wrote in an April 1943 piece titled “Coal’s New Horizons.”

Even as domestic oil production was increasing, Ickes wrote “it requires no seer to foretell that the day is approaching when petroleum must be supplemented as an industrial and domestic fuel and as a source of gasoline…it is prudent to look to coal and oil shale as sources of liquid fuel.” Indeed, since cheap energy, specifically petroleum derived energy, had become perceived as something of a “right” by most Americans, Ickes stated that “when our petroleum reserves and imports are inadequate to meet the demands of this mobile and industrial age” the most practicable alternative is to “develop, on a commercial basis, known methods of making liquid fuel from coal, lignite or shale oil.” Beginning in the 1940s, Ickes and others in the coal industry began taking coal-to-liquids and coal gasification seriously, funding and initiating various experiments designed to take these processes commercial. And, just as they did, Big Oil and other industries lined up to thwart the process. Coal, too, stubbed itself in the foot. The Coal Age of Tomorrow might be possible, but it was not without hazards.

But how could coal miss out on a chance at an 80-million-ton market, asked the editors in the November 1945 issue. “Coal can supply gas and gas can furnish clean, completely automatic home heat and other services free from delivery and storage troubles. Needed is a cheap, practical process of complete gasification. The search is under way and intensified efforts can make it bear fruit quicker.” The “House of Tomorrow” was what really concerned coal men in 1945: specifically the basement. Automatic heat and service, the editors knew, was the trend. Though coal could provide “community heating plants also providing hot water; gas service for heat and also air-conditioning, hot water heating, cooking and refrigeration” as well as other services, doing so would require a concrete marketing plan as well as the ability to deliver constant fuel supplies. What coal possessed over both oil and natural gas, however, was supply. Without question, the resources and reserves were there, but would the market have patience and choose Old King Coal or would the new consumer culture be swayed by modern natural gas and oil, and the potential of atomic power?

Coal’s best hope could come in the form of district heating and building the right types of power plants. “With 10 million news homes commonly cited as necessary in the United States in the next few years, the battle for the job” of providing them with energy “is really on,” wrote the editors in the March 1946 issue. Steam generators, fueled by coal, could fill that role if enough research and development could be conducted and coordinated.

Making oil from coal was another continuing project. In the August 1946 issue, U.S. Rep. Jennings Randolph, of the 2nd District West Virginia reported that “substantial strides toward the establishment of an American synthetic-liquid-fuels industry are evident as scientists of the Bureau of Mines, aided by the industrial and laboratory secrets of a decade or more of German experience, reach the end of the second year of a five-year program devoted to synthetic fuels research and development—an activity momentous to the national welfare and of particular significance to the coal industry.”

Randolph related that Bureau scientists “anticipated the laboratory and pilot plant at Bruceton, Pa., will begin making synthetic oil and gasoline from coal early in 1947. Contracts have also been let for converting the surplus synthetic-ammonia plant at Louisiana, Mo., into a coal-hydrogenation and gas-synthesis demonstration plant. Meanwhile, Bureau technicians, working in temporary quarters and with limited facilities, have reported important research advancements.” Federal subsidies and corporate partnerships provided further research throughout the decade.

In the December 1948 issue, the magazine reported that a new pilot plant for the gasification of coal built by the Pittsburgh Consolidation Coal Co. in cooperation with the Standard Oil Development Co. at a cost of $500,000 had been formally opened. The previous November 15 an inspection tour of dozens of coal executives, union and federal officials and executives from Consol witnessed its dedication. The purpose of the plant was to study the operability of fluidized coal gasification to reach conclusions regarding costs and commercial design. Though interest was high, costs were equally prohibitive.

Commenting on the company’s gasification program, Consol President George H. Love conceded that while “at present there is no apparent economic justification for investment of large sums in commercial facilities to convert coal into gasoline, we must anticipate that the time will come when such conversions will be commercial justified or necessary in the national interest. While growing energy demands are expected to increase the use of coal in solid form, the establishment of new uses will add security to the industry’s future. These things—to be ready for a national need, and to establish new markets for coal—are the objectives of our research, which we can’t leave for others to do.”

In the July 1949 issue, assistant editor Stanbury reported on the progress being made in creating oil from coal. On May 8, the Louisiana, Mo., coal-to-oil demonstration plant began producing 200-300 bbl per day of various grades of liquid fuel from coal. “Full development of this new industry to a capacity of 2-million bbl per day of liquid fuels would make the U.S. independent of Near East oil in any emergency. For the bituminous industry, assuming that half of the liquid-fuel output will be from coal, there would be a need for between 190 to 210 mt additionally per year to feed the plants.”

Anthracite Takes a Postwar Dive

Almost at the end of the war, in the June 1945 issue, Coal Age ran a feature focusing on anthracite’s future. Titled “Anthracite Prepares for Tomorrow,” the editors delineate anthracite’s challenges, most of which conspired to finish off the old industry segment.

With commercial production going back through the early 19th century, at the time of Coal Age’s first issue in 1911, the eight counties that comprise anthracite country produced almost 90.5 million tons all by themselves. All time production heights came during World War I when anthracite miners won more than 99.6 million tons out of the ground in 1917. But less than a generation later, at the bottom of the Great Depression, production was down 50%.

World War II, however, brought another surge. In 1944, anthracite hit a modern high pulling 63.7 million tons out that year. With that momentum carrying over into the next year, the industry was starting to dream big again when Coal Age reported that “more than 6 million customers in 17 states burn it in anything from stoker-fired boilers to hand-fired pots.” Yet the writing was on the wall—the editors merely read it well. “The question remains, will those customers continue to burn it in equal or greater quantities after the war, when competitive fuels will be more available, when new and better equipment begins to flood the market, when every customer’s cellar becomes a potential battleground among anthracite, other solid fuels, oil and gas?”

The answer, sadly, was no. Though the coal industry as a whole lost ground after the war, by 1948, anthracite was stilling holding its own producing back-to-back 57 million tons years. But in 1949, anthracite took its first big step in its long slow demise. Production fell to just 42.7 million tons. That downward trend would accelerate rapidly through the 1950s due to the culprits listed above—and more. To add insult to injury, some of the first railroads to completely convert from steam locomotives and “dieselize” were traditional anthracite consumers and carriers. Despite labor peace, lower production costs and better equipment, nothing could help. Those 6 million consumers just didn’t purchase anthracite anymore. A decade later in 1959, those same eight counties produced only 20.6 million tons—and falling.

Diesel Locomotives & the Beginning of the End of the Iron Horse

Beginning just before the war, oil had really begun to make deep inroads into coal’s traditional markets. No industry was more tempted to switch over than the railroads. Ironically, the iron horse had been, for generations, coal’s biggest customer. Indeed, many—including past Coal Age editors—had argued that the much smaller coal industry had really served as just the fuel subsidiary of the railroad colossus itself. By 1940, new diesel locomotives were beginning to win favor. First as switching engines, then on mainline passenger trains, both the public and the railroads were seemingly fascinated by internal combustion. General Motors purchased the first major domestic diesel-locomotive manufacturer and started a nationwide campaign promoting the technology. Only the war and diversion of those diesel engines into submarines and Liberty ships would slow delivery to the railroads.

Looking at the history of diesel locomotive usage in the September 1944 issue, Coal Age ran a piece titled “The Iron Horse: Coal’s Big Market Problem.” Coal’s future as a locomotive fuel, the editors stated, “depends upon progressive thinking and general support of research into improved steam-locomotive design, however, the diesel has captured popular fancy and diesel manufacturers have sounded the them over and over again that diesel power is the modern power.” In 1942, there were only 1,667 diesel locomotives in service, more than 60% confined to switching duties against roughly 40,000 steam engines. In 1943, the railroads ordered 442 steam engines against 612 diesels, and that trend did not stop through the war or afterward.

Though 20% of the bituminous mined in 1943 went to the largest railroads, coal was down to 81.8% of overall railroad transportation fuel and falling. “There is no longer any question whether or not there is a trend to the diesel. It is now, in the opinion of many, a question of whether the trend can be stopped. There is obviously no danger of losing the entire railroad market overnight—or ever, for that matter. There are roads that will continue to use steam and would not be found dead in the same roundhouse with a diesel. Unfortunately, their motive is more one of coal traffic than of relative steam or diesel efficiency.”

The problem was that, even though diesels were 250% more expensive than steam engines, “according to its supporters, diesels do more than two and a half times the work and it does it cheaper.” Experimental steam and gas turbine locomotives were trotted out by the end of the decade, but, by then thousands of shiny new diesels were taking over crack passenger and crack freight trains. With coal supplies frequently interrupted as well, many rail lines started putting their older locomotives on deadlines. Throughout the decade, stories written by executives of the Hanna and Consolidated Coal Cos., would lament the losses and openly worry about the long-term impact of the loss of railroad customers.

Borrowing from Benjamin Franklin’s famous quote, “If we don’t hang together, we’ll hang separately,” R.L. Ireland, president of Hanna, stated that coal producers need to change both their merchandising attitude and provide railroads with a better, more consistent product if they plan on keeping them as customers going forward. “Too often in the past coal mines have sold the carriers coal that ill-suited their needs. With the excuse of keeping revenue traffic moving, surplus merchandise sizes have been foisted on railroad purchasing agents…Those agents have long memories,” he wrote in the April 1947 issue.

In October 1946, assistant editor W.A. Stanbury Jr. penned a long piece on the future of the gas-turbine locomotive predicting the new technology could prove a game-changer. Expected at the time to undergo on-the-rail testing by June 1, 1948, two types of gas turbines were, at the time, being developed by a consortium including the three major steam locomotive builders, the Battelle Memorial Institute and several other research groups. Though in 1949 several heavy coal burning eastern lines, including the Norfolk & Western and Chesapeake & Ohio would order new steam-turbine electric-drive engines, these white-elephants would spend most of their time in the shop and would be scrapped by the middle of the 1950s. Only the Union Pacific Railroad would have any real success with turbines, and only after they were powered by diesel fuel.

Natural Gas Offers Stiff Competition, but Other Markets Beckon

In the September 1946 issue, the editors put together a long piece on the threat of natural gas competition to the industry. “Translating the natural gas to be available from the Big Inch line into tons of anthracite on a Btu basis, we find this 275 million cubic feet of anthracite coal, or 3,055,000 tons per year on a basis of 300 working days. In 1945, your company produced 3,379,275 ton of anthracite in domestic sizes. This stern warning, provoked by plans of the natural gas industry to pump peacetime gas instead of wartime oil from Texas fields to industries and homes in the Philadelphia-New York area through the Big and Little Inch pipelines, was voiced in a pamphlet recently issued to its miners by the Philadelphia & Reading Coal & Iron Co.”

As soon as the war was over, natural gas began expanding its reach nationwide. “Realistic appraisal of the competitive situation gives coal men little cause for complacency—not that they have any on this score. Indeed, there is good reason for busy days and some sleepless nights these next few years if the coal industry expects to beat off this new threat without occurring too many losses.” Since 1920, the natural gas industry had expanded nearly at the same rate as the anthracite industry had retreated, taking over much of its customer base in the process. This trend continued throughout the decade.

During 1946, miners dug more than 532 million tons of coal, which was used, among other things, to make two-thirds of the country’s electricity. “At the same time, work was progressing on an experimental plant at Oak Ridge, Tenn., to produce electricity by splitting atoms,” reported Eugene Snyder of the McGraw-Hill Economics Staff in the March 1947 issue. “Will this new source of power replace, compete with or merely supplement the use of coal?” Nuclear science, of course, was in its infancy in the late 1940s, but throughout the rest of the decade and for years to come, tremendous amounts of research and development dollars would be spent perfecting this science and developing commercial grade atomic power.

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