A Granduc Story

Photo - Granduc Bunk Houses

Submitted by Art Vibert -
A personal travel diary to Granduc Mines

What we saw was a mile square area of snow that looked like sloppy mashed potatoes. Mixed in this mess were pieces of tin, wood, etc. I said to Raoul, "If we get out of this mess alive, I'll buy you a drink." This whole area had been busy with working men and machines minutes earlier: a bulldozer down by the warehouse, three men shoveling snow off a roof, a mechanic working that area, as well as six carpenters at different jobs. The scene before our eyes now stood still and quiet, with no sign of life and hardly a building left standing.

I found it hard to realize just what had happened. We walked up to where the cookhouse had once stood, just as the cook was emerging. He looked as if he had fallen into the flour bin, with his white shirt and pants and, now, white complexion. Blood oozed from his clothes at the belt-line and a stream of blood ran down the right side of his face. As luck would have it, he had gone to the freezer at the end of the cookhouse for some porkchops for lunch when the slide hit. Had it been three minutes later, he said, he would have been putting the porkchops on the huge hot stove. His big worry while rescuing himself was 'Is there anyone else alive?'

By this time the survivors were starting to move, running to areas where they could hear trapped men hollering. Two of the first rescued were the operators of a snowmobile and bulldozer. The snowmobile man said he banged the dash with a wrench to attract attention.

Six men that were in a small coffee shack next to the cookhouse had disappeared along with the shack. Kelly, the radio operator, was busy trying to get word to the outside on a makeshift radio that he could not receive on. The big question was - what could we do? How could we help with no tools to dig with? The only equipment salvaged were four hand shovels which were in constant use. Raoul and I decided the tunnel would be the safest spot in case of the further slides, so down the hill we went. On the way down we passed six men bringing one of the injured up on a stretcher. The powerhouse, where we would have been working had the compressor arrived in time, was completely flattened as well as the machine shop. All the men working in these two shops were lost. The entrance way to the tunnel was half covered in snow and everyone was busy working at what seemed a hopeless task. There was an injured man laying between the tracks. As the men uncovered a buried survivor the doctor would rush out of the mine to administer morphine. Everyone was busy digging.

Inside the tunnel it was cold, wet and dark. What we needed most was a nice warm fire but this was impossible in the tunnel, as the smoke would have choked us out.

Word came down from the top of the hill that they needed a cutting torch to free a bulldozer operator trapped in his vehicle. Raoul, another chap, and I started up the hill, one carrying the hose, one carrying gauges, and the lead one breaking trail. On the way up we passed the snow cat which miraculously had escaped the slide. The machine had been built for this type of work but was useless on this hill and had to be abandoned.

We reached the top of the hill to find things getting organized. A hospital had been set up in the back portion of the office. There was a bonfire burning outside the office and, best news of all, Kelly had got word to the outside. This was verified by the fact that he had picked up a Vancouver radio station on his transistor that was broadcasting the tragedy. This did a lot for our morale, for we were getting tired, hungry and soaking wet.

Two of the precious four shovels were used to shovel snow from the hospital roof. It was ready to cave in under the weight of six to eight feet of heavy wet snow.

Using a large pot that had been straightened out, Raoul proceeded to help a man whip up a stew. They rounded up a bunch of Using a large pot that had been straightened out, Raoul proceeded to help a man whip up a stew. They rounded up a bunch of unlabelled cans and started to open and toss the contents into the pot only to discover, when it was too late, that one of the cans had held fruit salad, which by now was floating merrily in the pot along with corn, peas, meat, etc. The pot was put over the open fire and brought to a boil, then taken off and doled out to the hungry men. We took turns eating from bowls using our fingers for spoons..

Diary - Continued