We read today from Thomas Gray’s “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard,” as the twelve coal miners who perished in the aftermath of a freak explosion are laid to rest. Home for them was the small town of Cleveland, West Virginia, where “everybody knows everybody.” Their death was a tragedy, seemingly one that could not have been prevented; as of now, the presumed cause is a bolt of lightning. Yet the fact that the circumstances brought national attention and grief, including the pathos of the search and the bathos of the terrible result after the initial erroneous good news, was a flash of justice wrought by fate. Because it is just that the nation be reminded of these sturdy men who are mainstays of our civilization.
p> em>”For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, br> Or busy housewife ply her evening care: br> No children run to lisp their sire’s return, br> Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.” /em> /p>
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