In an age when local news can stick a camera in your face and show you to the county that night, when newpapers are more likely than ever to print your letter to the editor and when, if you know the answer to this morning's trivia tidbit, you can get on the radio and win pizza and a bowling pass - Wharhol might be right. But in truth, it is much easier to become infamous than it is to become famous. Just since WWII, several third-world leaders have assured themselves of a place in history because infamy is so easy to acheive. Part of the nature of human character is that people remember the bad things longer than they remember the good. It is no different with the history of coal.
People remember strikes and explosions, layoffs and bankruptcies.
And generosities, when they have been committed, are looked back on with some degree of cynicism and seen as being the product of ulterior motives. The tone for the relationship between labor and management in the U.S. Coal industry was set in cement in the 1860s and '70s with the emergence of a group in Northeastern Pennsylvania known as the Molly Maguires. The legend of the Molly Maguires, a band of Irish immigrant coal miners who fought for better working conditions in the coal fields of northeastern Pennsylvania, has been told in hundreds of books and articles. They have been described as everything from ruthless murderers who used treachery to further their goals to heroes who fought for justice. Their defenders say they were framed by the establishment - namely, Lehigh Valley Railroad founder, Asa Packer, and the coal company bosses who wanted to squelch the fledgling labor group.