This was the worst hard-rock mining disaster in the history of the U.S., and it took place in Butte, MT. Ironically, it resulted from an attempt to make conditions safer for the miners. Hard-rock mining was so dangerous that new and improved safety conditions for these mines were attempted. The Granite Mountain/Speculator Mine Disaster is still held in the hearts of many Butte citizens and altered the working conditions and culture of miners in the small city.  

The Granite Mountain Mine and its sister mine, The Speculator, were two of the many mines within the hills of Butte. Today, one-third of the world’s copper supply in circulation comes from Butte, including the Granite Mountain Mine. In the days leading up to the disaster of the Granite Mountain/Speculator mine, workers were attempting to improve the safety conditions for the miners who worked tirelessly underground day after day by attempting to install a fire alarm system throughout the mining shafts. This system was intended to be made from an immense electrical cable, which was roughly five inches thick, weighed several tons, and was comprised of lead, copper, and oil-soaked cloth.  

Butte miners were no strangers to the dangerous working conditions, including soot inhalation and physical injury, that came with underground mining, but this did not stop them from fearing for their lives every time they were lowered deep into the ground, surrounded by complete darkness. The intended fire alarm system was meant to alleviate some of this anxiety; instead, it brought tragedy to the tunnels beneath the earth.  

On that fateful day in 1917, two mine workers were installing the cable when they lost control of it, and it plummeted roughly half a mile into the shaft below at the 2,500-foot level. Rather than attempting to retrieve it, the men ascended back to the surface to report the incident. During the later shift, two men named Ernest “Sully” Sullau and Baldie Collins descended into an abyss of darkness shrouded with uncertainties to examine the damage to the wire because of its fall.  

The only light source that Sallau and Collins had to inspect the damage was a carbide lamp, which emits highly flammable gas. As the pair attempted to assess the situation, Sallau’s lamp touched the wire, setting the oil-soaked cloth serving as insulation for the wire ablaze. Quickly, the entire wire was ablaze, setting the mine disaster in motion. Collins returned to the surface to inform the hoist house of the situation, while Sallau stayed below to warn the miners working in the mine, knowing he could be responsible for their well-being.  

Upon being told of the fire, surface station tenders Michael Conroy and Peter Sheridan believed they could retrieve some of the workers from the mine at the 2,200-foot level; they decided to take the cage, also known as a “skip,” below. Sadly, the two did not realize the extent of the fire and were lowered directly into the flames. When the skip was raised back up, the pair were found in an embrace, both of them having been burned alive. Conroy and Sheridan were the only victims to die of burning, but this was only where the travesty began.  

In the mine below, Manus Duggan, a “nipper” who specialized in sharpening and bringing tools to the miners, took life-saving matters into his own hands. As described by Jim McCarthy, a Butte-Silver Bow Public Archives Historian, Manus used the layout of the mine to his advantage. “[Duggan] knew his way around underground; he was like a tunnel rat,” McCarthy explained. Thus, Duggan knew there was no safe way to the surface. Instead, Dugga gathered 29 of his peers together to bulkhead themselves into a dead-end tunnel, knowing it was their only chance of survival. Duggan and his men remained there for 36 hours in blistering heat until Duggan left to find help. Although Duggan died on his expedition to save the other miners, 25 of the men in the bulkhead survived.  

Two floors above where Duggan and his men were, another unlikely hero was emerging through the chaos. A shift boss named James D. Moore had the same idea as Duggan and bulkheaded himself and nine other men away from the fire. Moore and his men remained there for 50 hours in the same conditions Duggan and his men faced below. Ultimately, Moore died of smoke inhalation after being rescued and brought to the surface, but 5 of his men survived. Although both perished, Duggan and Moore are both remembered as undoubtedly heroic.  

As morning dawned on Butte the following day, the bells and whistles that rang through the air when a tragedy happened sounded from the hill. This was the worst fear for the wives and children of the miners, as it signaled that many miners likely died in whatever the ringing bells indicated. This chime indicated that somewhere in Butte, a wife became a widow, and a child became fatherless. When these bells rang, the miners’ families gathered at the mines to see who came back up in the skip. The city of Butte has never forgotten the fateful day when 410 miners descended into the Granite Mountain/Speculator Mine, and 168 did not return home safely.  

Today, there is a memorial in uptown Butte that pays tribute to all the men who lost their lives on that night in 1917. The memorial sits atop a hill in view of the deserted Granite Mountain Mine and the now-buried Speculator Mine. The memorial features flags of 16 nations representing the nationalities of the miners who died in the disaster. It also includes artwork depicting the heroic actions demonstrated during the fire and audio buttons that vocalize the last words of some miners, including Duggan and Moore.Duggan wrote a letter to his mother and wife while in the bulkhead before he died. He explained that he didn’t believe he would make it out of the mine alive, saying, “I’ve not confided my fears to anyone, but welcome death with open arms. To my wife and mother, it takes my heart to be taken from you so suddenly and unexpectedly. But think not of me, for if death comes, we’ll be in a sleep without suffering.” Moore’s last words were also addressed to his wife. He wrote, “Know your Jim died like a man, and his last thought was for his wife. Tell mother and the boys goodbye.”  

Along with the permanent memorial, during the 100-year anniversary of the disaster in 2017, a group of Butte High School students and members of the Butte Historical Society came together to recognize all the lives lost in the fire. As a high school student in Butte at the time, I was fortunate enough to take part in this ceremony. We dressed as miners and put on makeup to resemble a miner sooty after a shift underground. We descended into the Orphan Girl Mine, which is currently used for underground tours in Butte. Each of us were given a candle and designated to represent one of the miners who perished in the disaster. 

In the darkness of the mine, we held our candles and faced the camera of a local news station. Each of the miners’ names that we represented were read, and once our miner’s name was bellowed into the mine tuned, we blew out our candle. This visually demonstrated the loss of life that occurred in the fire. At the end of the memorial, Manus Duggan’s grandson, Manny Farren, spoke on his relative’s heroic acts.  

There is a popular saying in the small Montana city: “Butte never forgets her own.” This phrase still holds true today; the citizens of Butte have never forgotten the sacrifices made by the miners of the Granite Mountain/Speculator Mine Disaster. As a Butte native, I have never forgotten the lives of those lost deep underground, and I never plan to.