A New Beginning: Early 1900s Migration to America and the Nanty-Glo Years
In the early 1900s, a journey across the Atlantic brought two individuals to America, each on separate boats, unaware that their paths would soon intertwine. These were Jeff Koss' grandparents and they embarked on a new life in Boulder, Colorado, amidst the waning days of the gold rush. Their first years in America were challenging, especially with young children in tow. After having a daughter and a son in Colorado, they decided to return to Pennsylvania, settling near Nanty-Glo, a town known for its bustling coal mines.
Settling in Pennsylvania: The Nanty-Glo Years
Nanty-Glo was home to one of the largest coal mines in the United States, employing over 500 workers. It was here that his grandfather continued his work in the mines. Life was tough, marked by hardship and loss. Their daughter died in 1910, but they persevered, raising six sons amidst the coal dust and hard labor.
Jeff's grandfather worked tirelessly in the coal mines of Pennsylvania despite suffering a broken back. In 1930, he passed away, leaving a legacy that lived on through his family. His wife, a determined woman just 4 feet tall, bought a 99-acre farm to raise their children, embodying the unyielding spirit that would define their lineage. One of Jeff's uncles entered the mines at 12 years old to help with finances.
Tragedy and Triumph: Fire and Rebuilding
Tragedy struck again in 1944 when a fire broke out at the farm. Jeff's mother, with incredible bravery, jumped off the back porch holding the one-year-old sister, while the grandmother, who also leaped to safety, broke both arms. They lost everything in that fire—family photos, personal belongings, and irreplaceable mementos. Despite the devastation, two uncles rebuilt the house, showing the same resilience and determination that had carried the family through so many trials. The farmhouse was just three miles from where Jeff now lives, south of Ebensburg. The coal mines lay right beneath the farm that the grandmother's house stood on, as well as the land where he lives today.
Maternal Grandparents: The German Immigrants
Jeff’s maternal grandparents also had a profound impact on his life. They came to the USA on boats from Germany and met in Johnstown, marrying in 1917. Jeff’s mother was the oldest of four girls and two boys. His grandfather bought two lots in Nanty-Glo for a dollar each and built a stone and brick house, which had only a wood coal stove for cooking and heating, and an outhouse 75 feet from the house. Standing 6’4” tall, he worked as a pumper in the mine for 45 years, unable to read or write, signing checks with an "X." He passed away at 77 when Jeff was 14. His grandmother lived two more years without hot water in the house, heating water on the stove, and having a bathroom only a year before she died. There was only one light in each room and no phone. By the time Jeff was 16, all his grandparents had passed away.
Jeff vividly remembers cutting the grass at his grandparents’ house with a push mower without a motor and splitting slab wood with his brother, which took two weeks of hard labor when they were 10 and 12 years old. He painted a picture of his grandmother in her kitchen in 1965, capturing a moment of his family’s history.
Entering the Mines: Following in His Father's Footsteps
Jeff was born in 1951, seven years after the fire. His father continued working in the coal mines, specifically at Bethlehem Mines' Revloc #32 mine. Later, Jeff followed in his footsteps, working at mine #33. Bethlehem Mines operated seven mines within a 15-mile radius, primarily supplying coal to steel mills. Every miner had a brass tag with a number for identification; his father's number was 867, and his was 868. These tags were crucial for identifying miners, especially in the event of an accident, and were needed to collect paychecks.
A Miner’s Life: The Realities of Work Underground
Working in the mines was not without its perils. There were days when the elevator would get stuck with 33 men inside. Descending a thousand feet into the earth, they would sometimes find themselves trapped, hundreds of feet underground. In those tense, silent moments, the only sound was their collective breath, as they waited, sometimes for hours, for the elevator to be fixed. Those were scary times, but they also forged a bond among the miners that was unbreakable.
In 1971, Jeff worked in a steel mill where he earned $4.29 an hour, and the mines paid only slightly less at $4.28 an hour. Despite the hazardous conditions, miners were paid modestly. By the time Jeff left the mines in 1994, his hourly wage had increased to $16.50. Over the years, the demanding work took a toll on his health, leading to both knees being replaced—his right knee twice. Additionally, Jeff likely suffers from black lung disease, a common affliction among miners, although it has not been officially diagnosed.
From Miner to Artist
After leaving the mines, a new chapter in his life began at the age of 59 when he discovered a passion for painting. His art vividly captures the world he and his ancestors knew so well—the coal mines. His portfolio now boasts nearly 500 paintings, many depicting underground miners and machinery, a testament to his deep connection to his roots.
His work is showcased on Fine Art America, where it has found an appreciative audience. Through his paintings, he not only preserves the memory of the coal mining community but also honors the spirit of the men and women who toiled in the mines.
A Tribute to Resilience and Creativity
This remarkable journey from the dark, confined spaces of coal mines to the vibrant canvases of his art reflects a legacy of resilience and creativity. His family’s 200-year history in coal mining is not just a story of labor and hardship but also one of endurance and transformation.
As we celebrate his contributions to both the mining and art communities, we are reminded of the profound impact that one family’s story can have on our understanding of history, heritage, and the power of human spirit.
Photo by Alfred Eisenstaedt, Photograph Collection: Library of Congress
Thank you very much .Jeffrey Koss