Chapter 3:
Closing Day at Bonanza,
pt 5, conclusion
Dunkle smiled at the mine foreman and took off with the large
strapped load in tow on top of a specially-constructed cart. Richelsen
watched the load disappear down the tunnel. He dismissed the two mechanics,
sending them over to the tram terminal to help unload the compressor when it
arrived at the head of the ore tunnel. The electrician and a young miner
remained at the empty compressor station waiting for instructions from the
superintendent.
“Get ready at the transformer station to kill the remaining underground
power. That compressor is the last piece of equipment we’re taking out of
here, except for the two locomotives and their ore cars.”
The electrician nodded and headed back toward the tunnel entrance. Richelsen
turned toward the young miner.
“Young man, have you ever operated one of these before?”
“Yes sir. I ran locomotives down in the 1,257 cross-cut.”
“You then, will have the distinct honor of running the last locomotive out
of here. Pull the entire load completely out the adit door and clear the
portal of all the ore cars so I can shut the door behind you.”
“Sir, I’m honored.”
"It has been a great
run--much more so than we had ever dreamed. This mine, as you all
know, was my first great assignment. It is the one which I hold
dearest because my career really began right here close to the place
where I now stand. The Bonanza-Jumbo, for a brief time, was a top
producer world-wide. We suspected in the beginning, and we know
now, that the richness of the ore here has never been surpassed and
probably never will be." --Stephen Birch speaking to the engineers
in the dining room of the Bonanza barrack in July, 1924.
Aerial view of the
abandoned Bonanza mine site and Bonanza Peak, 1955. --AMHA, Ward
Wells, 1723-54, B83.91.
Richelsen followed the last of the cars out the door. As he walked
outside one of the mechanics ran up to tell him that the other locomotive
had left 1,501 and was ready to be hoisted down the machine hoist just ahead
of the much heavier compressor.
“Does that mean everyone is completely clear of the mine tunnels?”
“Yes sir. Just as you ordered. The foreman informed me that he has cleared
that end and will wait for you over at 1,501.”
“Very good. Thank you.”
Richelsen looked up toward the electrician who stood at his station at the
transformer building directly above the portal. He raised and then lowered
his arm. The electrician pulled the lever while W.A. watched. The tunnel
beyond the heavy door went black. Richelsen walked up to 1,503 to close the
heavy door. A brisk breeze from somewhere miles below caused the door to
resist closing. The young miner rushed over and helped Richelsen push and
latch the door. They both walked over to the second door at the parallel
1,505 tunnel. The cold wind whistling from somewhere deep within the
blackness chilled the superintendent. He felt relieved to have the help of
this young man as they both struggled to close and latch this second, very
heavy steel door.
“Two down. One to go. Come along, young man. You’ve been very helpful.
You’ll be needed at the machine hoist.”
Richelsen watched from the tram terminal landing as the large group of
miners worked the second locomotive and then the much heavier compressor
down the very steep machine hoist. Wes Dunkle stood beside him. Up above,
George Hancock directed the lowering of these final pieces of heavy
equipment. Once the compressor was down, W.A. climbed the narrow stairs to
the top where the 1,501 adit door remained open. The last tunnel to be
closed appeared just as black as the others. The wind was not as strong at
this adit, but the absolute darkness had become unnerving.
“Last one, George. This is it.”
He quietly shut door 1,501. It closed with almost no resistance.
“There. It’s done. The Bonanza mine is now officially closed. Let’s have
lunch, George! You coming, Wes?”
As the three men reached the top of the landing at the rear of the main
barrack, movement high in the air caught their attention. All three glanced
up in time to spot four large ravens circling high over the mine site. Then
the winds began to pick up, blasting each man’s face. The engineers headed
for cover under the porch roof to escape the direct effects of the wind
chill, but both felt a strong, impulsive need to look up so they could
continue watching the strange circling birds high above. George had his own
private thoughts.
Already Mother Nature’s moving back in -- reclaiming what
was once hers. So impatient to take on a fresh kill--this
abandoned mine barrack. Only a few more hours and it will be
hers alone. She’ll never see the likes of any of us at this
mine site again.
He turned and found himself facing the two engineers. They had moved
back outside, transfixed at the sight of the ravens flying high above the
barracks.
The temperature had taken a drop as the winds began to pick up. It had
turned gusty and the snow was blowing, threatening to turn into a full-blown
blizzard. The final loading of the tram would be hampered by the
deteriorating weather conditions. A miserable final return trip from Bonanza
to the mill was now virtually assured.
Richelsen shivered, as did the others. He was not sure if this was so much
from the cold or from the sight of those ravens. There was something about
those dark-colored birds which vaguely reminded him of the disastrous events
at Mother Lode. It was going to be a long final day. He was beginning to
feel increasingly anxious to leave. Richelsen would be quite happy if he
never saw those birds again in his lifetime.
The last Kennecott superintendent Walter
Richelsen on Silk Stocking Row, Kennecott.