The Sky Was Always Underground

I scream red . . . for a secret passage to air: Willow Grove Mine cries out in a poem in the aftermath of a gaseous explosion that claimed the lives of 72 coal miners, devastating a community in Southeastern Ohio for decades. Jonathan Graham includes this poem in his 140-page hybrid lyric memoir of Appalachia.

Inspired by a dream in which his deceased father tunnels his way to him from the tomb of Willow Grove, the author recounts being raised in an ethnic enclave of immigrant Slovak coal miners, several of whom, including two uncles, lost their lives in the mining catastrophe. Elegiac and focused, the compilation promises poetry and short prose to chronicle the author’s family and a handful of characters living nearby in the mid-20th Century.

After the catastrophe, Willow Grove had a stranglehold on the region, elucidated by the essence-seeking nature of Graham’s lyric writing. Like violin music wafting from an Appalachian mineshaft on a hillside, verse draws the ear and mind of the reader into the imagination of the book.

As a whole, the collection laments a time, a region, a culture of hard-working, land-loving Appalachians who celebrate and grieve together, who struggle against the odds to succeed, overcoming poverty and tragedy to create better lives for themselves. Too, the stories lament a land ravaged by mining, and the land’s dream of healing.