EDITORIAL & OPINION — ODDS ‘N’ SODS — Making the grade

I became an assistant mine inspector on March 1, 1916, at which time I moved my family to Sudbury.

I was prepared to take it easy for a few days, but on my first day, before breakfast, Tom Sutherland, my supervisor, called to tell me of a fatal accident at the Creighton mine. He said that if I wanted the help of another inspector at my first inquest, he would postpone the meeting for a few days. I said I might as well try myself out, so the inquest was set for that afternoon at Creighton.

Upon entering the inquest room, I was dumfounded to find several top officials of the Canadian Copper Company, including John Agnew, Jack Nichols, Dave Butchard and Ed Corkill. Also present was Captain Millar, superintendent of the Creighton mine. Of these men, I knew only Corkill. I assumed they turned out to see how this ex-Mond Nickel man would work out, and it left me pretty nervous. Mond, you see, was Canadian Copper’s cross-town rival in Sudbury.

Millar was my first witness, and he was definitely hostile. Next came the shift boss in charge of the work area where the man was killed. I was fumbling around with my questions when he, in answer to an earlier inquiry, gave me the lead I needed. It seemed the accident had occurred because a safety belt had not been worn. The shift boss then acknowledged that he had not given orders that these belts should be worn.

I soon had Millar back on the stand and asked him if the company had rules that belts must be worn during such work. Still hostile, he started to hedge. By this time, my nervousness was gone. I exploded, telling him he would remain on the stand until I got a yes or a no answer. He acknowledged that company rules did indeed call for the use of safety belts, and went further, expressing surprise that the rule had not been enforced. In the end, the verdict held the shift boss responsible.

Before I left the inquest, I informed Millar that I would be making an inspection of the mine the next morning and that I wanted him to accompany me. Ed Corkill drove me home and told me how glad he was that I had got at the truth of the matter. On the drive, my mind was busy on the problem of how I could overcome Millar’s hostility.

The next morning, Millar and I made the rounds. He was still pretty surly.

Each safety inspector carried a report book in which he entered any orders made for work to be done. By carbon papers, two copies of the original were made. The original was handed to the mine official, one copy was sent to the Toronto office, and the other was filed with the inspector’s office. Before I reached the mine, I had torn out the two carbon papers, but Millar did not know this. His face grew longer as I noted several minor changes to be made, two of which I thought important. When I tore off his copy, I told him that as this was my first visit, I had made no copies. I also told him that I would be back in a few days, and that if he attended to my suggestions, I would only issue verbal orders in the future, provided he co-operated with me. I saw that he was taken aback but pleased. He must have passed on the good word, for never again did I have any trouble on inspection trips at Canadian Copper mines.

It was my tongue that got me in trouble. I told a fellow inspector what I had done. An old friend of Canadian Copper general manager John Agnew, he told both me and Agnew that he thought I had done well.

The fat was in the fire: Agnew asked me to see him. When I did, he demanded, in no uncertain terms, that I reverse my policy, and also have an extra copy of any orders sent to him in the future. I gave him a flat “no” and told him that I was not working for him, nor would I take his orders. A real cussing match ensued. He told me that I would do as he said or else. My reply was that he might be a big enough shot to have me fired but that he wasn’t big enough to give me orders. I reported this to my supervisor, and Sutherland told me to continue as I had started. As long as I got results, he said, he would back me up.

In the future, I never gave Millar anything other than verbal orders, and we became friends despite my Mond Nickel odor.

— The preceding is an excerpt from A Mining Trail: 1902-1945. The author, who retired in 1945, is a former manager of the Dome mine in Porcupine, Ont.