Coal mining. Don’t hear a lot about that these days unless it is from a pit disaster in deep rural China.

But recently I just finished reading ‘GB84′ by David Peace (who also wrote ‘Tokyo Year Zero’). GB84 is a fictional account of the real life 1984-85 miners strike in the UK. It’s a good book, pretty dense to read and get through, but very enjoyable, evoking well (I imagine) what it must actually have been like to be involved in the strike, either on the side of the miners, or on the Other Side. I particularly enjoyed reading the sections written as if inside the minds and lives of the striking miners- the claustrophobia of being home a lot with nothing to do, the wanting to be out, to be down pit, to be working, to win, wifes annoying them, the divorces, the fights, the relationships with friends who turn ‘Scabs’. A great read.

I was only a nipper when the strike was on, I only remember we went to school 3 days a week as there was no coal to power the school furnaces and heating system. In a strange way I’d like to go back in time, to see it for myself, to be a photographer then. But I can’t. But reading the book made me want to see images of the strike, so I went looking. First ones I looked for were John Sturrock’s images from his project ‘The Enemy Within‘, I believe this was a book, although I’ve never actually seen it, I’d like to though ( if anyone has it and wants to sell it…). Another large set of interesting images I found were from Martin Jenkinson.

I’ve only ever shot one story on coal mining, in 2001, and it was images of the Longannet coal mine in Scotland. It was the last working mine in Scotland I believe, and a while after I shot there the pit was flooded and subsequently closed. The one image I was very happy to get is that below, one of three generations of one family, all miners. I was working with George at the pit, and he mentioned that his father and grandfather were, or had been, miners. I managed to persuade him to persuade them to all come together for a portrait, three generations of miners, perhaps the last time in Scotland you could shoot such an image. George’s grandfather was only happy to do it if we drove to a nearby town and to a pub favoured by miners, I was happy to oblige, anything to get the image. In my mind I hoped it’d be a classic working man’s pub, big windows, shafts of light, pints of heavy, greyhound dogs, smoke hanging in the air. So I was happy when I got the below pic, shot on a Leica, no greyhound dogs, but atmosphere none the less.