Prologue: Early 1930No sooner had he set down his chisel and glance at his lunch pail than Tom Rushton realized the side wall of the mine was about to cave in on him. Small rocks began falling, a prelude to the quake of the underground. He’d seen it too many times in his twenty-seven years of mining to believe it would happen any differently now; the dirt was giving way, sending plumes of coal dust up in billows. Rock and earth rattled like castanets in rapid motion. He tried to shout, but gr...