The 40th Anniversary of the 1973 Disaster
40 years is quite a time.
But some people here today will remember the events of that night and of the week following as though it were only yesterday.
One thing is certain; all of us here are a lot older than we were in 1973.
Had they lived, of the seven men who died, the eldest would have been 89 by now, and the youngest 70.
Of course, there is always a chance that if they had escaped or been rescued, they might have died of something else by now, particularly if they had continued to work in the mining industry.
For even though there are very few working collieries left, fatal accidents still continue to happen. Three men have been killed at Kellingley in the last five years.
And it’s not just a matter of fatal accidents; many miners’ lives have been drastically shortened or blighted by industrial injuries or diseases contracted in the course of their work.
During my time as the Vicar of a mining parish, how many funerals must I have done where the cause of death has included some sort of chest complaint like silicosis or emphysema? And to how many other ailments has the miner’s way of life contributed? – All part of the “True price of coal”, as proclaimed on the mines recue banner over there.
Of those who escaped the inrush at Lofthouse there are fewer and fewer left to to tell the story of that night.
Of the Lofthouse men involved in driving the piggyback rescue tunnel, only one is left, and since then he has lost the sight of an eye in an accident at Wistow Colliery.
But today our thoughts and prayers focus on those seven men whose lives were tragically cut short 40 years ago this week and so never had the chance or the choice to leave or continue in the mining industry, never had the chance to grow old.
We remember them and their families, families that have had an empty place among them for the last 40 years.
Coal mining has gone on in the Outwood area for many centuries.
Before coal was discovered, burning wood was the main fuel for cooking, keeping warm, and to provide heat for metal working and other rudimentary industrial processes.
Towns generally had wooded areas on their outskirts which supplied their needs and these woods were gradually consumed over the years.
How fortuitous that the great Wakefield Out Wood was found to be sitting on top of extensive coal seams of varying thicknesses.
Not long ago, when an extension was being built on to Lofthouse Gate School in Canal Lane, the digging of the foundations uncovered such a seam outcropping at the surface.
(Isn’t it strange that Drax power station is starting to burn wood and so called “bio-mass”, mostly imported from North America, and that the new mines that were sunk to feed it have been closed down, their ample coal seams abandoned? Is history going backwards?)
Lofthouse Colliery was sunk in the 1870’s.
I often used to wonder why it was called “Lofthouse” when it was in Outwood.
But I think I’ve worked out the answer.
They called it “Lofthouse” because it was next to Lofthouse railway station.
Lofthouse railway station wasn’t in Lofthouse either, but when the station was built in 1858 there was no specific village called “Outwood”.
The whole area was part of the great Out Wood so they named the station after the nearest identifiable village, which was Lofthouse.
In the course of time, the station closed and later re-opened as Outwood station, but Lofthouse Colliery retained its original name!
As well as being a memorial time for the 1973 disaster, today is also by way of being a reunion for those who worked at Lofthouse colliery before its final closure in 1981.
Some moved to Wistow and to other mines; some left the industry altogether.
As you come together today, as well as commemorating the seven men killed in 1973, you will be reminiscing about many other things – good times as well as bad, comedy as well as tragedy.
Working together in under such potentially difficult and dangerous circumstances builds bonds and relationships between people, similar to those serving in the armed forces.
As well as remembering the disaster victims, we give thanks for all the friendships, commitment and support shared together over the years.
The mining industry has now disappeared from our local area.
There’s not much obvious sign that it was ever here.
We are fortunate not to be like one of those isolated former pit villages where everything was completely blighted when the pit shut.
Nevertheless, it is part of our heritage.
Without the mining industry, Outwood would not exist as it does today.
Most likely, this church building wouldn’t be troubled by the affects of subsidence, and Stanley Church might still be open.
But if the mining industry hadn’t been here, there would have been no need for the church in the first place, and not the 11,000 or so population who live in this parish today.
The church building is here for the people; the church is people, an open community in the midst of the wider community, sharing in all that happens in that wider community, which is another reason why I am glad to welcome you here today.
Tomorrow is Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week.
Around the walls of the church building are 14 pictures tracing the journey Jesus made in that first Holy Week to the place of his death – the Way of the Cross.
In him we see God living our life and sharing our death.
He shared the death of those seven men who died at Lofthouse Colliery, and he spoke to them the same words he spoke to one of those who died on a cross along side his, “Today, you will be with me in paradise.”.
Dedication of Lofthouse Colliery Nature Park Heritage Trail
By the Vicar of Outwood,
following the opening and unveiling of the monument by Mr Chris Skidmore of the Yorkshire NUM
Saturday 30th November 2013
We have come here today for the official opening and dedication of the Heritage Trail through Lofthouse Colliery Nature Park.
As we come, there are many different thoughts in our minds to do with our past, our present and our future.
We see an area that was once part of the great Wakefield Out Wood where nature flourished and animals grazed.
We see the marks of industrialisation where the railway came and the earth was exploited.
We see the remains of a man-made landscape from colliery waste and surface drainage.
We see the land being restored to nature and opened up for the public good.
As we look and see these things we remember how much this area is part of our shared history in this district.
If Lofthouse Colliery had never existed, Outwood would never have grown and developed as it has done.
The pit was sunk in the 1870’s and closed in 1981. How many people must have worked here over the years! And how different life was in the 1870’s and 1970’s from how it is now!
The Heritage Trail will bear witness to these things and teach up-coming generations about the lives of their local forebears.
We give thanks for these and all those who had a part in the building of the community in which we live today.
In a minute of silence let us remember the people who worked at Lofthouse Colliery and are no longer with us – disaster and accident victims and all the men and women of our previous generations.
(One Minute’s Silence)………………………………………
Rest eternal grant to them O Lord, and let light perpetual shine upon them.
“O God from whose love in Jesus Christ we cannot be separated either by death or life, hear our prayers for those whom we remember at this time and grant us with them, and all the faithful departed, the sure benefits of your Son’s saving passion an glorious resurrection; that in the last day when you gather up all things in Christ we may all enjoy the fullness of your promises; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord” AMEN.
A reading from the Book of Job about the mining industry of his day, up to a thousand years before the birth of Jesus,
“ There is a mine for silver,
And a place for gold which they refine.