"The Misery Mine " A Cautionary Tale by Marvin Oesterle
The Pioneer History of Ingham County states that: in 1872 it was announced that coal had been found three miles north of Mason in Alaiedon Township. "the vein that is now being worked is about four feet thick, lies about twenty feet below the surface, and can be taken out with little expense." Thus began what I call the Misery Mine, since it has not had a happy history.
The 1872 mining effort soon fizzled out despite the efforts of property owner Almira G. Brown and miner, James Jenkins of Jackson. It wasn't until sixty years later (1933) that property owner Allen Smith leased the mine to the Chippewa Coal Co. of Saginaw, MI. This venture didn't even get off the ground before the lease was canceled in 1934, due to the Great Depression. Dr. Corsaut of Mason then leased the mine and began mining operations in 1935. The lease terms were 25 cents per ton for the first 3000 tons & 35 cents per ton thereafter.
Two of my uncles worked at the Corsaut Mine for the princely sum of 25 cents per hour -- at least it was princely during the Depression. One uncle was hired to haul coal in his Model T truck to the woolen mills in Eaton Rapids. On the night shift, he worked the pumps to make sure the mine would be dry in the morning for workers. The other uncle pushed a wheelbarrow to transport coal out of the mine. The mine closed after two years. Lawsuits followed, and in 1939 the property was surrendered in a mortgage foreclosure.
Today, the mine is filled with water and the tailing piles are covered with a 70-year stubble of trees and brush - perfect prospecting land for me and my "mule", a Black Lab named Boo. The two of us were walking the crest of a tailing pile when I slipped in the mud and tumbled through a wild raspberry patch, pulling some muscles along the way. Boo came bounding up with that silly dog laugh on his face. I could tell he was thinking "that wouldn't have happened if you walked on four legs instead of two." Knowing the hardships that this mine has caused, I should have exercised more caution. My superior friend got his turn on our next trip to the mine. While I was diligently digging, Boo discovered a new friend with black fur and a white stripe down his back. Rock-hounding suddenly took a back seat. On the ride home, I wished my back seat was IN another county.
When the glaciers passed through our area, they left an esker that runs near the Misery Mine. Since we try to farm on top of it, we have more than our share of rocks. We pick up the rocks and take them back to the mine, mostly because it makes such a satisfying "Ker-splash" when you toss them into the mine pond. One day, I was pitching rocks into the mine and found a specimen that just begged to be broken open. Not carrying my goggles or my cracking hammer, I thought, "Why don't I just fire this rock against that big one? What could happen?" Well, I was lucky: a small chip flew up and put a scratch in the middle of my right prescription lens, rather than in my eye, and the bigger chunk scored a direct hit on my shin. -- Of course, as I was doing my dance, I didn't feel lucky. So, Misery Mine is the perfect name for that blasted hole in the ground!