As time pass'es all little girl's grow up and realize maybe dad was not as tall as she thought. But when he held my hand and we would walk through the mountain paths,or close to the rail road tracks, He seemed like a giant to me telling me stories of how things use to be ,or maybe talking of the honey bees and their need for the flowers and the tree's, Yes those days were truley grand the one spent hand and hand , He never made me fill small and this was no easy task,Because their were four of us children in all ,And he wanted better for each and every one .And with a kiss we were off to school, And we all knew he belived in the golden rule,Some people say he was a simple man from,Eastern Kentucky, who never had a chance at school instead he became a miner of the land,I recall running to great him ,How strange this work made him lookCovered in black from head to foot ,He need an hour to scrub and still his skin looked dark almost blue,but he never really complained.Not even a shift called the hoot owl shift which was the last shift of the day ,What shift was better for once inside you could not tell night from day, Payday allway's brought a smile to his face, But then that awfull cough would take it away, The doctors had said the bright colored blood was coming from his lungs that he needed to leave the mine's for this problem was called, Black Lung, Rock dust would help hold the dust down he would say and he used a dust mask to help protect anyway,Besides this was the only work he knew, So with mask, battery light and water pail that allso held lunch off he would go ,So his children could stay in school ,And that was where we were when an Uncle came to bring us back home, We knew something was wrong, Mother could not find word's to tell us dad was gone she said, Remember he loved you all, The details of his death was very faint leaving unanswered questions in our mind's ,It seemed no two men told the story the same.No matter mother said it won't bring him back,I feared this would happen some day.The funeral was so sad, I was never able to see how he was in a better home now that he was gone For a seven year old girl it was plainly wrong, I wanted my daddy and I wanted him home. To touch his face to walk hand in hand , But that could never be again, ---The Robber had struck once more ,---The Robber of life that lurks in those dark holes underneath the land . The one that separates a father and a child's hand's, I am now grown with a child of my own , And I know now how my father feltToward his children's hand's. His death left holes in my heart , and still brings tears to my eyes, for you see that robber not only stole him from me, He took my daughter's grandfather to She never knew him , execpt through my memory's, And if this seem's sad Then you will surley understand when I say he robbed from her twice, He also claimed her dad's father much the same way ,Another place, Another time yet still with a coal mine ,Leaving little children behind.-----------------------by - Oaneatta Stanley Smith ---------------In Loveing memory of Troy E. Stanley---1928-1967-- May God Bless All Miners And Protect Them. "Photo is Not Of Troy E. Stanley" but repersents a Father and Child.