The John Henry Legend

Revisited

This blog started off as something else, and sort of got hi-jacked along the way. Let me explain.

Since my earliest visit to the Greenbrier Valley area, in Christmas-time 1964, I had heard about The Legend of John Henry and the Big Bend Tunnel. And, for many years, as a proud citizen of the state of West Virginia, I had talked about how important it was that we remember there was a real story behind the Legend, and the song.

And, of late, the State Government has taken up this task, what with a brochure, money for a new park, and even a forthcoming exhibit sponsored by the West Virginia Humanities Council.

But, then things began to change. A year or so ago, at a WV Humanities Council lecture on John Henry, I heard a comment by one of the local "experts" on the subject of John Henry. This individual said that there was some new ground-breaking work being done by a professor at William and Mary that would change many ideas we all had about John Henry.

Last fall, at William and Mary's Homecoming, I got to hear that "professor," Scott Reynolds Nelson, describe his search for the real John Henry. After hearing his presentation, I knew I had to read his book "Steel Drivin' Man -- John Henry -- The Untold Story of an American Legend", but the W&M Bookstore was sold out. So, this spring for my birthday, I got it as a present from "older daughter." I read it eagerly.

And so, on a hot, August 1st, on my way back from the farm, I decided to stop by Talcott WV, "The Home of the John Henry Legend" and record a few pictures so as to make a glib blog about how reality hasn't caught up with scholarship.

For the blog, I planned on showing the statue (see above), a gift from the local Ruritan Club, the front cover of the brochure (see above), the Park sign (see right), and of course a picture or two of the actual Tunnel.

I arrived in Talcott, parked my car and walked beside the tracks towards the tunnel. I knew from my most recent trip on The Cardinal, that someone, CSX, the State, both(?) had put up fencing extending all the way from near where I had parked, down to the tunnel site. All the way down, I was not sure I would be able to get over to see the tunnel since the fencing was placed between the "old" right-of-way, now abandoned, and the "new" right-of-way, a very busy East-West line used by CSX on a regular basis.

I knew from an earlier visit, that the original tunnel, "the John Henry Tunnel" was actually called "The Great Bend Tunnel," while the new bore, built, I believe, in the 1930's is the "Big Bend Tunnel." I realized the path I was on was leading toward the new bore and not the old. Thankfully once I got down near the tunnel site, I saw that there was an open gate. I entered and took a shot of the twin bores. But as I took my shot, I noticed, ever so slightly, there appeared to be a small cloud settling down in front of the Great Bend Tunnel.

"Probably dust," I said to myself and then walked closer. But the closer I got, the more I realized it wasn't dust. Rather, it was a mist, coming out of the bore of the Great Bend Tunnel. Intrigued, I moved forward. Unlike Scott Nelson, I was not about to enter the tunnel, I just wanted to peer in and see what was happening.

And then I heard the water drops, hitting the leaves just outside the tunnel entrance.

"Drip, Drip, Drip, Drip."

And again I paused. And then moved forward again until I was standing right at the rocks "blocking" the entrance to the tunnel.

Looking in I could see the entire tunnel floor had a good 1-2 inches of water as far back as I could see, which because of the mist coming out was not very far. And I could feel the incredibly cool air, natural air conditioning perfect for a hot August Day, splashing against my face and body.

Rationally, I knew there was a reasonable, scientific answer for what was happening, and even began to formulate my speculations about the phenomena. Something about hot air/ cold air, tunnels with water, wet springs, and the like. I have hiked the tunnels of the North Bend Rail Trail. I have seen this many times. I know there is a rational answer for what was happening.

That was the science.

But there is more to life than science.

And so, gradually the feeling came over me that I was seeing and hearing the tunnel workers from the past. No, I was not feeling the presence of John Henry, for Scott Nelson has made a pretty convining case for John Henry being at the Lewis Tunnel about 20-30 miles east of here in Virginia. But still, I was in the presence of the tunnel workers from the past, coming out to greet me as a mist.

And the sound I was hearing? It was the sound of hammers tapping out the message,

"I, "Work," "For," "You."

A sound that reminded me that a lot of what we call "Modern Civilization" has been built on the lives of workers whom we now forget. Workers who sweated and swore; workers who got sick, and even, as we know in John Henry's case[ and many other cases], died. Workers who never received the pay due them for what they did for all the rest of us.

And that was when I realized the message of this blog had been taken over by The Tunnel itself. And instead of being a "smart" commentary on what happens when reality changes and people don't. This blog is now a reminder, as indeed the John Henry song is a reminder:

Don't forget our debt to those

who made us what we are.