The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1927-04-01
AND POETRY
By MARGARET GRAHAM.

THE train pulled into Artomovsk at two in the morn
ing. Artiomovsk meant four things to us at least
in anticipation. 1t meant huge new industrial town
with half million inhabitants named after Artiom
the MINER for whom weird statue had been erected in
the center of the town. 1t meant salt for side
of it lay the famous salt Mines 1t meant COAL for it
the gateway Gorovka and the coal mines of the
Don Basin 1t meant mud, for had been warned that
at this of the year roads would be well nigh inn
passabe and a visit TO the salt mines depended the
roads.
Il was raining when we deposited our half dozen suit
cases. ypewriters and steamer rugs the station plat
form. The cobbled streets showed gloomy puddles in
the Pickering light of the station lamps We tired
and not in the mood for hotel hunting at two in the
morning in the rain. The disreputable droshkeys with
their saggng mud guards offered the only solution
problem, though the prices asked for trip to
the only two hotels in town eXorbant. After some
maneuverng, we took the lowest bidder and off
The first hotel gave us a flat mo" They were full
Another rouble took to the secodony to echo the
In despair found ourselves confronted
with huge pile of stone representing strange
uncouth giant keeping lonely vigil in the center of a
cobbestone court. 1t a terrific sight. Futursm
gone mad in memory of Artiom the Miner l suggested
that climb up behind him and try find shelter be-
meath the square gray blocks which had somehow been
thrown up in the form of But he useless
for purposes. We went back to the station.
It three o'clock Tea and sandwiches took an
other half hour 1t looked like sitting up all night We
had plenty of company. Workers and went as
trains pulled in and out From time to time the station
master with his engineers cap carrying the emblem of
his trade appeared and disappeared He friendly
looking youngish and not to conversation.
After all Americans and not unwelcome Final
ly decided to take him into confidence. He left
for a few moments and returned with a nod We fol-
lowed him around the station platform and into his little
two-room flat. He worked at night We could have
his bed His wife and little girl could get along in the
other 1t all arranged very quietly and gracousy
mattress on the floor for one of us two of in
the engineers bed and the wife and child in the other
So at four we got to sleep.
By the following it had cleared and we had ar
ranged with the Trade Union Committee for a trip to
the salt mines. Then would take the train for Cor
lovka and COAL
Blue sky and golden sunshine red soil and dappled
tie. Here and there group of pottery chmneys. One
of the machines struck ditch in the road and all but
capsized but the chauffeur kept manfully on. We
finally met again at the salt mine. 1t was named for
Schebschenko, the Ukranian poet
Salt and poetry and the economics of production
what a strange people these Russian builders were!
There salt mines in the section All but three
had been closed down and the three producing
much the nine had produced before the revolution.
Machinery was the answer. They showed the
new machinery with glowing eyes and even now it
was only 300 mechanical. Yet they able to ex-
port to Latva, Japan and Switzerland.
We followed guide to a square platform, were
locked in and dropped 480 feet to the bottom of the
Set in crystal corridor 80 feet high and almost as
wde the picture Of the poet Schebschenko smiled at us
crystals reflecting the dim lights with thousand pol
ished surfaces truly palace for a poet.
Twelve hundred miners were at work in these huge
corridors. The old workings, being used as the
atre In another place there lunch tables . in
another stables where mine ponies born blind and
died from never having the light of day.
Around bend lights set in the walls. Then
shadowy figures emerged miners. We called to
them Greetings from your American Brothers.; they
down curously faces shining in friendly welcome
three gaunt figures, each with his miners lamp. . .
One stripped to the waist, gray haired, tall lean
ghostly figure. He spoke to for his companions We
grouped ourselves around him, watching his eager face
He weighed his words carefully, he sending his
message to his brothers many miles away.
Brothers," he said, "this is the story of the salt
miners. What l say you believe. have
been a salt miner % years . and l know what we
have gained since the revolution This is our mine
now have machinery we have shorter
hours, only six underground we have steady
work % days month have one months
vacation with pay and our own houses rent free
with light and heat. We have our own clubs and
theatres and even gardens. Our hospitals
and nurseries for children. Tell our fellow
workers in America these things greet them in the
of the Miners Union of Artemiosk" We ex-
salt miners climbed back to their inches in the WALL
drilling the holes for the fuses mixing salt with poetry
in the of the Ukrainian poet Schebschenko for
the glory of the workers and peasants mining salt
to be sent to Laia and japan and Switzerland know
ing that these things theirs sealed with the
blood of their comradeswho fought and died for them
in the glorious Revolution.
To CTVTDENTT cTTTOTDI