Fire on the Mountain

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

No one living in the United States, much less the Denver Metropolitan area should miss The Denver Center Theatre Company’s production of Fire On The Mountain. This is particularly noteworthy, coming from one who has never cared for Bluegrass music. And although I still probably would never willingly attend a Bluegrass concert or seek out a radio station featuring Bluegrass, this production with its exquisite cast nearly knocked me out with its poignantly written storyline, and musical expertise gleaned from deep inside the coalmines.

(From Left to Right) “Mississippi” Charles Bevel, Dan Wheetman and Ed Snodderly in the Denver Center Theatre Company’s production of Fire on the Mountain. Photo by Terry Shapiro

Narration so rich, the lively music awesomely compelling, the uncontrollable toe tapping, the dismal photos, I could actually feel dust in my throat.

No American History book or PBS Documentary contains the capacity to grab the attention on the history of Appalachian coal mining, the lives of these fiscal poor families, dedication, family orientation, loyalty, suffering, threat of constant disaster, and love of the mines as do these people responsible for providing coal to heat homes and businesses during the later part of the 19th Century into the 20th. We, who flip a switch to warm our homes, grumbling frequently over the ever-present demand by the energy companies to raise the rates, live far removed from the mountain people flippantly called Hillbillies.

Randal Myler and Dan Wheetman wrote the musical tribute to Appalachian coal miners and Myler directed the ensemble cast of nine incredibly talented artists.

While the knee slapping, toe-tapping music curls its way into every nook and cranny, still photos are projected onto two large screens, giving credence to the coal streaked faces, tired bodies, worry lines over disasters, pasted together shacks, meager possessions, and pride for the love of the mines. Pride in their families, pride in their communities. The miners only saw the sunset one night a week, and it was a gift of gold. Their day of rest and worship ended with a celebration at their Meeting House to let off steam with their music and foot-jolting dancing.

Interspersed with narration, Fire On The Mountain features 36 songs, none of which were familiar, but familiar to many in the audience on opening night. The nine: Molly Andrews, “Mississippi” Charles Bevel, Margaret Bowman, Daniel E. James, David Lutkin, Tony Marcus, Mike Regan, Ed Snodderly, and Wheetman switched moods and musical instruments as slick as oil. Fiddles, guitars tambourines, banjos, and harmonicas responded as though they were part of the human anatomy.

Starting with a young boy’s dream of following his father’s footsteps into the dark, wet, and treacherous mine that snaked deep into the bowels of the earth. Andrews lights up the stage with Hard Working Miner. Wheetman and Marcus bring smiles with My Sweetheart’s A Mule In The Mine. The smiles hid a rough reality. Mules were more valuable than a human. Men in the mines could easily be replaced, but mules had to be bought. Boys could start work when they were eight-years-old for 25 cents a day. For double the amount, they could actually go into the mines at seventeen. Racism didn’t exist because at the end of the day “they all looked the same.” Miners kept farmers ignorant of the value of their land. When coal was suspected on a farm, the farmers were offered 25 cents an acre.

“Mississippi” Charles Bevel brought jaw dropping responses from Coal Diggin’ Blues, Coal Loadin’ Blues, and Been In The Storm Too Long. Bowman as Mama, created total silence as she remembers when she lost her husband in the mine, couldn’t say the word dead, keeping his belongings in their place, including the shoes under the bed. Prior to the performance, Chris Wiger, publicity and public relations manager told of the performance attended by a miner who approached Bowman, hardhat against his chest, telling her how sorry he was she lost her husband. Rather than tell him she was only an actor, Bowman simply thanked him. That’s power in the theatre.

If the throat with this production grabs miners, there is no question it is one we all need to pay attention to. It’s part of our history. It’s part of us.