January 23, 1765
Entry #1
I was fortunate enough to receive a position in a coal mine here in Wakefield. It only pays tuppence a day, but Mum said it was better than nothing. I don’t think she really knows what the coal mines are like. The mines themselves are dark, musty and cramped. They made passages only wide enough for children to pass, albeit on their hands and knees. Whatever air exists in those mines is suffocating, if not toxic. I wouldn’t be surprised if the insides of my lungs were black as pitch by the end of a few days.
-Ernest Statham
February 4, 1765
Entry #2
Father has come down with a fever today. Now, only Mum and I work, and there aren’t many, if any at all, high paying jobs for people like us. Mum doesn’t want to take Father to a hospital because she thinks they’re too crowded for their own good. She may be right, but there’s nothing we can do for Father here. I’ve heard some people say that thousands of people have already died from typhus. We don’t have the money to do anything about it.
-Ernest Statham
February 19th, 1765
Entry #3
Father passed away last night. Mum is beside herself, and is receiving less and less money each week. I can’t find a job that pays higher than the tuppence per day from the coal mine. I saw a funeral procession this morning. A group of rich folk weeping around a single casket decorated with flowers and gems. It seems strange that they hold just one person so important, while hundreds of other die each week without a thought. We could never afford to give Father a funeral like that. None of our neighbors could, either. It seems unfair that these rich folk can do it for their each and every casualty.
-Ernest Statham
-Ernest Statham
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