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Mining accident: 110 died in past 5 years while working solo
This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2008, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

ELMO, Emery County - They were sweet, those last few months of David Whiting's life, before he was crushed to death on a gravel road leading to the Bear Canyon coal mine in the pre-dawn darkness of a snowy Dec. 12 morning.

He had gotten married barely seven weeks earlier to Layci Schrawyer , who was teaching him to play the piano.

Her three young children from a previous marriage had accepted him into their family. They called him dad.

And just days before, he and Layci learned they were going to have a child of their own.

"It was like a fairy tale," said Layci, who is due to give birth July 24. "It's a boy, so he will be David Junior."

The accident that abruptly ended Whiting's life at age 31 is not that unusual among fatalities in the coal mine industry. Unlike highly publicized disasters, such as Crandall Canyon, in which nine Utah miners died in August, or three 2006 disasters that claimed 18 lives in Appalachia, most miners die alone on the job.

Of the 146 coal mining deaths that occurred in the United States in the past five years, 110 involved single fatalities. Six more incidents involved the deaths of two miners.

Federal Mine Safety and Health Administration statistics also show that accidents involving powered haulage equipment, both underground and on the surface, frequently are among the leading causes of mining fatalities. Haulage accidents were among the top three causes of deadly injuries in each of the past five years.

An MSHA investigation report released last month cited Bear Canyon's owner, C.W. Mining Co., for five violations that contributed to Whiting's death.

The report said the semi-trailer Whiting drove for Cleveland-based Trimac Transportation Services Inc. became stuck on a steep section of a snow-soaked gravel road leading to the Bear Canyon mine. Whiting called for help.

The C.W. Mining employee who responded parked a front-end loader about six feet from Whiting's semi. He had just hooked up a chain to the loader when it slid down the road, crushing Whiting between the bumpers of the big rigs.

MSHA investigators determined the operator did not inspect the loader before running it that day and that the machine was not maintained, allowing moisture and debris to build up in its braking system, which failed. Other citations accused C.W. Mining of not equipping haulage equipment with blocks to prevent slides and said the operator did not turn the loader's wheels to keep it from slipping down the soggy road.

"This is a clear-cut case of liability," said Sonny Olsen, a Price attorney retained by Layci Whiting, along with the Salt Lake City firm of Dewsnup King and Olsen, to investigate and pursue potential litigation against C.W. Mining and Komatsu, which manufactured the loader.

"They [C.W. Mining] are notorious for using subpar equipment and having subpar brakes," he added. "This is a case where an accident was inevitable and could have been prevented. They need to be held accountable."

Multiple calls to C.W. Mining were not returned.

Securing compensation from the company will be a challenge. C.W. Mining is in involuntary bankruptcy after a federal judge ruled the company defaulted on a contract to supply tons of coal to a Kansas City-based utility and owed Aguila Inc. nearly $25 million.

How to move on: Into the wee hours of the night before her husband died, Layci Whiting was struggling with morning sickness. "We had just found out about a week before that I was going to have a baby and I was really sick," she said. "He was up rubbing my back as we watched Bewitched. He was just taking care of me."

After David Whiting left for work about 5 a.m. with one of his brothers (he had 12 siblings), Layci went back to sleep until shortly after 8. A knock at the door woke her.

"I thought it was visiting [LDS Church] teachers. My house was a mess and I wasn't all the way dressed. I thought they'd go away, but they didn't. They kept knocking," she said. "So I got decent and I went downstairs and there was a [Emery County] sheriff and a woman from his work. She told me 'Sorry, Dave was killed today.' I thought she was out of her mind."

But she wasn't. And now Layci Whiting is trying to figure how to move on with four young children amid the emptiness of a romance cut short.

Layci and David actually met about eight years earlier when she was lined up on a blind date with a guy from her LDS singles ward in Utah County. David was the guy's friend. Nothing much happened then, but Layci made enough of an impression that Whiting contacted her again several years later when both were in Nebraska - he was visiting his mother, she was living there after having married, given birth to three children and split from her husband.

She moved back to Mapleton and, early last year, re-established contacts through a friend with Whiting. "He sent me flowers and we went out to dinner. The timing was right, so we pretty much courted and got married in October."

The relationship thrilled Whiting's brother, Melvin, a Helper resident who works at the Skyline coal mine.

"I'd seen him in dating and friendship relationships, but there hadn't been anything that resembled to the way he got along with Layci," Melvin said. "You could see the spark. You could see the respect and the relationship grow."

David Whiting sold his motorcycle, Jeep and dirt bikes to raise money for the wedding. Pictures from that day adorn the walls of the modest home Layci inherited from her late husband, including one with David flashing a big grin as he teased his new wife. "He was goofy. Most of the time that's how he was."

He dedicated himself to Layci's three kids - Christian, 7; Aspynn, 6; and Larry, 4 - spending the fall building a sandbox for them. And Layci was teaching him to play Canon in D major on the piano he gave her as an engagement present.

Memories such as that make it hard for Layci Whiting to play the piano these days. She spends her time caring for her children and, occasionally, crying.

"When we go to the cemetery, Christian will ask 'Are you going to cry this time?' It's really emotional," she said. "He was really scared if he did anything wrong. He didn't want me to hurt anymore. That really concerned me because he's only 7 and taking it on himself."

Layci has tried to keep life as normal as possible, planting trees near her home as she and David had planned. "The things that we were going to do together, I'm doing," she said.

But the void in her life never goes away.

"I'd give anything," she said, "to have him snore in my ear again."

mikeg@sltrib.com

Newlywed, dad-to-be's death not unusual in coal industry
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