The "Scottish lad" referred to in the lyrics is Iva McCutcheon, the only Scot who passed away in the 1913 disaster. Although his grave at the Dawson cemetery is marked as "Unknown", it has been verified as: Miners Plot, Block 5, Grave 14. The lyrics referencing "seven tolls" describes the mine's bell system where the ringing of the bell seven times meant "accident" at the mine, in which case the whole town would run to the mine to help. In 1913, miners from as far away as Pennsylvania showed up to assist in the recovery of the miners. From what I can surmise, this is the only song written about the two disasters. And it was my way to bridge the years in a way that the fathers and sons would re-unite. Rick

Lyrics

1913 Stag Canon No. 2 (Dawson, NM)
By: Rick Landers

It’s 1913
Stag Canon No. 2
The coal dust ignited
When the dynamite blew
The father, Son, the Holy Ghost
And then there’s me, and you
A most unlikely Scottish lad
And Italian crew

It’s 1913
Our families wait with dread
Will there be survivors
Or will they all be dead?
We pray for all beneath the ground
But mostly most of all
We pray for all of our next of kin
And hope they’ll all be found

We travelled the oceans
We sailed the deep blue sea
Searching for streets of gold
With milk and honey
Now we’re lost deep in this hole
Surrounded underground
With coal and steel and timber spars
Lost without a sound

It’s 1913
Mine brother next to me
He of Catholic Irish stock
Me a refugee
We met upon arrival
All piss and vinegar
And with the blood of Abraham
And Jesus, lines were blurred

We travelled the oceans
We sailed the deep blue sea
Searching for streets of gold
With milk and honey
Now we’re lost deep in this hole
Surrounded underground
With coal and steel and timber spars
Alone without a sound

It's 1913
Our families filled with dread
Will there be survivors
Or will they all be dead
And we pray for beneath the ground
but mostly, most of all
We pray for all of our next of kind
and hope they'll all be found

It’s 1913
Iron crosses in the ground
They're painted pitch black like our coal
260 miner’s down
Our friends, our foes our family
Miners one and all
Ten years later
Seven bells were tolled

1923
A cold, hard winter day
The 1913 miner’s sons
In the ground they laid
Another faulty blast
Another hole in ruins
As old dead miners greet their boys
120 sons entombed

We travelled the oceans
We sailed the deep blue sea
Searching for streets of gold
With milk and honey
Now we’re lost deep in this hole
Surrounded underground
With coal and steel and timber spars
Sons and fathers found