| onofre tafoya |
| Through the Eyes of a Miner |
| A new book by a man with a love for hard work, mining and writing |
| Interview by Yolie Hernandez |
| Mother Magma "A memoir of underground life in the San Manuel Copper Mine" Published by the Hispanic Institute of Social Issues Click here for more information |
BARRIOZONA: What compelled you to write Mother Magma?
Onofre Tafoya: Mother Magma is just one part of my life. I tried to write a
history of myself for my children. I have six girls and two boys, and I want
them to know what my life was like. Also, I like to write, and I feel it is the
best way to explain myself to them, and that part of my life that they cannot know.
BZ: For how many years did you work in the San Manuel mine?
OT: For Mother Magma I worked for 37 years and one month.
BZ: What are some of the most memorable experiences underground? Are they included in your new book?
OT: I had many experiences underground; most of them dealt with other people. Some with dynamic egos that
thought themselves more important than the common good; others that were ready to risk their lives to keep from
having to say they could not do the job. I speak of a few experiences in my book. I could write of many fatalities
that occurred, but I feel that my book would become known as the “book of the dead,” rather than that we were
one of the best and safest in the world. Recently, we have seen the tragedies happening to miners here in the U.
S. and Mexico.
BZ: How did you and your family prepare for such an event?
OT: I do not believe that a miner or his family can prepare for the worst, other than to work as safe as he can.
Accidents happen many times through no fault of the victim or anybody else. Many times, when a miner dies
underground from an accident, the surviving miners are thinking: “I have done the same thing many times, and I
am alive!” No one quits or hesitates to go underground just because a miner or many miners have died. Whenever
I had a close call, a brush with death, or went into harm’s way, I never told anybody, least of all my wife. It sounds
stupid to say so, but I was always more concerned with my fellow workers’ safety than my own. We are all like
that.
BZ: In your book you mention the camaraderie between men. Can you tell us a little of about this?
OT: When men work together for a long time –ten, twenty, thirty years– and they have not abused one another in
a serious way, a sense of respect and tolerance of each other’s faults and failings develops. Male bonding is built
on this respect and tolerance. Each day that I go out into the street or town, I meet men who I have known for
three, four or five decades. We are drawn to each other. We must make contact, however brief, to renew this
bond and relive the past. My wife, Allison, is astonished on how many men I know, and the many more who know
me and I cannot remember, until they tell me where and when we worked together. Others remind me of some
incident or of a mutual friend. We shared a harsh and demanding life for many years deep in the ground, where
we depended on each other to complete our tasks and protect each other from hurt or harm.
It was a difficult life made tolerant by making fun of our situation when we could, or finding the comedy in
ourselves. For example, here is a list of the nick names that were stuck on people; many do not need an
explanation:
Blowpipe – tall and skinny
Cara de Catcher – catcher’s face
Chaparro (shorty) – two of them
El 44 – when asked by his boss: “how many rounds did you blast?” his answer was always: “44,” because it was
the only number he knew in English.
El Bellota (acorn)
El Bigotón (big mustache)
El Blinkie – whose eye affliction caused him too constantly and continuously blink both eyes. We accused him of
half the time being asleep on the job. (Blowpipe and Blinkie were “baptized” by the Anglos.)
El Brains – when younger he was always coming up with bright ideas.
El Cacahuate (peanut)
El Cananea (from Cananea, Mexico)
El Canine
El Caquitas – whose job was to take out the sanitation cans.
El Chango (monkey)
El Chapo – shorty
El Charrasquiado (scar face) – he had a skin affliction on his face.
El Chicote (whip)
El Chupale (sucking)
El Conejo (rabbit)
El Coyote
El Cubano – Cuban
El Dedo Mocho – chopped off finger
El Dolly – because he was a pretty baby; he kept this name till he died, just recently.
El Gallo (cock) – he had a cocky walk.
El Gato (cat) – whose eyes were always looking around.
El Gordo (fatso)
El Guero Perrodo - fair-skinned farty
El Gunfalo
El Hollywood – tall and handsome
El Manito
El Mariachi
El Masero (the dough man) and El Lechero (milk man) – both prior occupations,
El Mayate (black beetle, dark skinned person) – he was almost black.
El Mimi – who could dose off in a moment’s relaxation.
El Mira Sol (looking at the sun) – he squinted so severely you thought his eyes were
closed.
El Moco – burger,
El Moo - was caught stealing cow
El Naco
El Negro
El Novio (groom)
El Ombligo (bellybutton) – an Anglo who always said “ombligo” instead of hello.
El Oso
El Papalote (kite)
El Pata de Ala, the way he swung one leg when he walked.
El Piojo (head lie)
El Quicho
El Rapido (the fast one)
El Salvadista – a Mormon.
El Shadow – because he was dark completely.
El Shaggy Dog
El Skunk, and another named Zorrillo – I never could understand why, and I never called him this.
El Tejano (Texan)
El Texico
El Tigre Rayado (striped tiger)
El Veneno (poison) – he was always passing bad news around.
El Wino – drunkard
El Yo-Yo – I don’t know why.
El Zapata
El Zapatero (shoemaker)
Frenchie
Gueros – many of them (fair-skinned): Guero Blanco, Guero Felix, Guero Ramirez and others.
Handlebars
La Liebre (jackrabiit) – he was tall, skinny and always at a run.
La Mamá – who acted like an old mother hen; he was a sweet man.
La Mesera (the waitress) – a miner who always wore a rag tied to his waist over his clothes to constantly wipe his
oily hands.
La Pulga (flea)
LLamitas (little flames)
Los Chinos (Chinese) – two brothers with oriental eyes.
Los Cochitos (piggies) – two brothers who would poke food into their mouth with their fingers.
Nalgas de Rana (frog’s butt) – he had no buttocks at all!
Oreja Mocha – chopped off ear
Pretty Boy – short and handsome.
Skeeter Romo
Snuffy
Spitter Polanco
Teddy Bear
Tin Can Joe
Tíos (uncles) – we had many of them: Tío Burrola, Tío Madrid, Tío Sanchez.
BZ: In the appendix of your book, there are many Hispanic/Latino names, mostly as laborers. Tell us about their
contribution to mining.
OT: Like the laborers in the agriculture fields, so were the underground miners, predominantly Hispanic. Blacks and
Indians never numbered more than a dozen. I never saw an oriental, and I remember just one Filipino. Look at the
ratio between the Hispanics and Anglos of the names I have in my book of the San Manuel Mine, and you will find
this same ratio in all hard rock mining. In coal mining, it will be reversed. Hispanics have a long history in mining,
stretching back to Spain and starting in the Americas with the Conquistadores, who forced the Indians into the
underground mines. Hispanics were more loyal to the company, because of their family ties and a high value they
placed on a steady job. They did not make good tramp miners like the Anglos. They were mostly laborers, not
professionals. Most engineers have no personal sense of loyalty, and will leave whenever they see an advantage
elsewhere or they sense they can no longer advance where they are at.
All mining jobs underground are cyclical, repetitious and dangerous. These jobs are performed in a hot, dark, wet,
muddy, and remote location. The Hispanic miner soon became very expert and learned to like it, and to feel a
loyalty to the company, because it was permanent and stable. That is why you will find a great many three-
generation mining families in San Manuel. Take a poll today in this area, and you will find that everybody thought
that the San Manuel copper company was a great company to work for. Ask them what they think of the San
Manuel Mine shutdown, and you will find that everybody feels their loyalty was betrayed, and that the foreign
interests that bought and shut it down made a horrible mistake.
BZ: How much of mining was a part of you?
OT: A very large part, simply because of the type of man I still am. My role in life was and is to be a provider and a
protector. When I am that, I am happy and can enjoy any kind of work.
Onofre Tafoya: Mother Magma is just one part of my life. I tried to write a
history of myself for my children. I have six girls and two boys, and I want
them to know what my life was like. Also, I like to write, and I feel it is the
best way to explain myself to them, and that part of my life that they cannot know.
BZ: For how many years did you work in the San Manuel mine?
OT: For Mother Magma I worked for 37 years and one month.
BZ: What are some of the most memorable experiences underground? Are they included in your new book?
OT: I had many experiences underground; most of them dealt with other people. Some with dynamic egos that
thought themselves more important than the common good; others that were ready to risk their lives to keep from
having to say they could not do the job. I speak of a few experiences in my book. I could write of many fatalities
that occurred, but I feel that my book would become known as the “book of the dead,” rather than that we were
one of the best and safest in the world. Recently, we have seen the tragedies happening to miners here in the U.
S. and Mexico.
BZ: How did you and your family prepare for such an event?
OT: I do not believe that a miner or his family can prepare for the worst, other than to work as safe as he can.
Accidents happen many times through no fault of the victim or anybody else. Many times, when a miner dies
underground from an accident, the surviving miners are thinking: “I have done the same thing many times, and I
am alive!” No one quits or hesitates to go underground just because a miner or many miners have died. Whenever
I had a close call, a brush with death, or went into harm’s way, I never told anybody, least of all my wife. It sounds
stupid to say so, but I was always more concerned with my fellow workers’ safety than my own. We are all like
that.
BZ: In your book you mention the camaraderie between men. Can you tell us a little of about this?
OT: When men work together for a long time –ten, twenty, thirty years– and they have not abused one another in
a serious way, a sense of respect and tolerance of each other’s faults and failings develops. Male bonding is built
on this respect and tolerance. Each day that I go out into the street or town, I meet men who I have known for
three, four or five decades. We are drawn to each other. We must make contact, however brief, to renew this
bond and relive the past. My wife, Allison, is astonished on how many men I know, and the many more who know
me and I cannot remember, until they tell me where and when we worked together. Others remind me of some
incident or of a mutual friend. We shared a harsh and demanding life for many years deep in the ground, where
we depended on each other to complete our tasks and protect each other from hurt or harm.
It was a difficult life made tolerant by making fun of our situation when we could, or finding the comedy in
ourselves. For example, here is a list of the nick names that were stuck on people; many do not need an
explanation:
Blowpipe – tall and skinny
Cara de Catcher – catcher’s face
Chaparro (shorty) – two of them
El 44 – when asked by his boss: “how many rounds did you blast?” his answer was always: “44,” because it was
the only number he knew in English.
El Bellota (acorn)
El Bigotón (big mustache)
El Blinkie – whose eye affliction caused him too constantly and continuously blink both eyes. We accused him of
half the time being asleep on the job. (Blowpipe and Blinkie were “baptized” by the Anglos.)
El Brains – when younger he was always coming up with bright ideas.
El Cacahuate (peanut)
El Cananea (from Cananea, Mexico)
El Canine
El Caquitas – whose job was to take out the sanitation cans.
El Chango (monkey)
El Chapo – shorty
El Charrasquiado (scar face) – he had a skin affliction on his face.
El Chicote (whip)
El Chupale (sucking)
El Conejo (rabbit)
El Coyote
El Cubano – Cuban
El Dedo Mocho – chopped off finger
El Dolly – because he was a pretty baby; he kept this name till he died, just recently.
El Gallo (cock) – he had a cocky walk.
El Gato (cat) – whose eyes were always looking around.
El Gordo (fatso)
El Guero Perrodo - fair-skinned farty
El Gunfalo
El Hollywood – tall and handsome
El Manito
El Mariachi
El Masero (the dough man) and El Lechero (milk man) – both prior occupations,
El Mayate (black beetle, dark skinned person) – he was almost black.
El Mimi – who could dose off in a moment’s relaxation.
El Mira Sol (looking at the sun) – he squinted so severely you thought his eyes were
closed.
El Moco – burger,
El Moo - was caught stealing cow
El Naco
El Negro
El Novio (groom)
El Ombligo (bellybutton) – an Anglo who always said “ombligo” instead of hello.
El Oso
El Papalote (kite)
El Pata de Ala, the way he swung one leg when he walked.
El Piojo (head lie)
El Quicho
El Rapido (the fast one)
El Salvadista – a Mormon.
El Shadow – because he was dark completely.
El Shaggy Dog
El Skunk, and another named Zorrillo – I never could understand why, and I never called him this.
El Tejano (Texan)
El Texico
El Tigre Rayado (striped tiger)
El Veneno (poison) – he was always passing bad news around.
El Wino – drunkard
El Yo-Yo – I don’t know why.
El Zapata
El Zapatero (shoemaker)
Frenchie
Gueros – many of them (fair-skinned): Guero Blanco, Guero Felix, Guero Ramirez and others.
Handlebars
La Liebre (jackrabiit) – he was tall, skinny and always at a run.
La Mamá – who acted like an old mother hen; he was a sweet man.
La Mesera (the waitress) – a miner who always wore a rag tied to his waist over his clothes to constantly wipe his
oily hands.
La Pulga (flea)
LLamitas (little flames)
Los Chinos (Chinese) – two brothers with oriental eyes.
Los Cochitos (piggies) – two brothers who would poke food into their mouth with their fingers.
Nalgas de Rana (frog’s butt) – he had no buttocks at all!
Oreja Mocha – chopped off ear
Pretty Boy – short and handsome.
Skeeter Romo
Snuffy
Spitter Polanco
Teddy Bear
Tin Can Joe
Tíos (uncles) – we had many of them: Tío Burrola, Tío Madrid, Tío Sanchez.
BZ: In the appendix of your book, there are many Hispanic/Latino names, mostly as laborers. Tell us about their
contribution to mining.
OT: Like the laborers in the agriculture fields, so were the underground miners, predominantly Hispanic. Blacks and
Indians never numbered more than a dozen. I never saw an oriental, and I remember just one Filipino. Look at the
ratio between the Hispanics and Anglos of the names I have in my book of the San Manuel Mine, and you will find
this same ratio in all hard rock mining. In coal mining, it will be reversed. Hispanics have a long history in mining,
stretching back to Spain and starting in the Americas with the Conquistadores, who forced the Indians into the
underground mines. Hispanics were more loyal to the company, because of their family ties and a high value they
placed on a steady job. They did not make good tramp miners like the Anglos. They were mostly laborers, not
professionals. Most engineers have no personal sense of loyalty, and will leave whenever they see an advantage
elsewhere or they sense they can no longer advance where they are at.
All mining jobs underground are cyclical, repetitious and dangerous. These jobs are performed in a hot, dark, wet,
muddy, and remote location. The Hispanic miner soon became very expert and learned to like it, and to feel a
loyalty to the company, because it was permanent and stable. That is why you will find a great many three-
generation mining families in San Manuel. Take a poll today in this area, and you will find that everybody thought
that the San Manuel copper company was a great company to work for. Ask them what they think of the San
Manuel Mine shutdown, and you will find that everybody feels their loyalty was betrayed, and that the foreign
interests that bought and shut it down made a horrible mistake.
BZ: How much of mining was a part of you?
OT: A very large part, simply because of the type of man I still am. My role in life was and is to be a provider and a
protector. When I am that, I am happy and can enjoy any kind of work.
| BARRIOZONA |
| Bilingual Community Expression Published by the Hispanic Institute of Social Issues |
| Photo by Eduardo Barraza |