1936 - An eventful year in our history - Remember?

It was the year our King Edward was having an affair with an American divorcée, which forced him into abdicating the British throne. Civil war broke out in Spain. German troops violated The Treaty of Versailles and occupied the Rhineland. Bruno Hauphmann was executed for kidnapping the Lindbergh baby. AND, a mining disaster in Nova Scotia developed into a dramatic rescue that was heard around the world.

Seventy years or so ago the village of Moose River, Nova Scotia became the centre of world attention as millions of people in North America and even parts of Europe waited by their radios for live up-to-the-minute news reports on a dramatic rescue mission to save three men trapped 43 metres below the surface of the earth in an old gold mine.

The Moose River disaster began on Easter Sunday evening, April 12. Two of the mine’s share holders, Dr. David Robertson, the 59-year-old Chief of Staff at Toronto’s Sick Children’s Hospital and Herman R. Magill, a 30-year-old Toronto lawyer entered the mine with Charles Scadding, the mine’s timekeeper and bookkeeper for an inspection tour.

Two hours later, while waiting at the 43-metre level for the hoist to return them to the surface, the mine’s roof crashed, trapping them in a small space without light, heat, water or food.

Before the cave-in, very few people had heard of Moose River, a small village 100 kilometres east of Halifax. When the mine collapsed, few people believed the trapped men were still alive.

However, people did rush to the mine-head to attempt a rescue. Smoke was seen coming to the surface when the trapped men lit a fire using wood from a few abandoned dynamite boxes. Smoke drifting up cracks in the earth signalled that they were still alive. By blowing on the embers, they kept the fire going for the next 18 hours.

When news of the accident reached Halifax, reporters from all the media descended on the scene. The next day, plane loads of reporters from Toronto streamed into Nova Scotia, to be followed by media people from across Canada and the United States. That placed a severe strain on the single telephone line out of Moose River, which led to fist fights among members of the press. The situation became so bad that Mines Minister Michael Dwyer was forced to put in place a scheduling system allowing newspapers use of the telephone for five minutes each hour and the radio station the use of the line for three minutes every half hour.

Finally, eight days after the cave-in, Frank Willis received a call from his peers in Ottawa authorizing him to go to the scene and broadcast. Arrangements were made with MT&T and Canadian Pacific Telegraph to clear and maintain lines for broadcast. By noon that day, Willis, two technicians, his equipment and a table microphone were on their way by car to Moose River. Willis was not received graciously by the newsmen who had been there for the past week. They knew his broadcasts to stations in Canada and the United States would eliminate their almost exclusive newspaper coverage. They were really upset when they learned he was being patched directly into the telephone system.

By this time, rescue workers had arrived from across Nova Scotia and Ontario. Despite plunging temperatures, icy winds and roads that had turned into muddy soup a three-man drilling team went into operation. A little more than 48 hours later, the drill crew broke through into the chamber where the men were trapped. They removed the drills and shouted down the hole. There was no response and the rescuers were convinced the trapped men were dead. But, Billie Bell, the provincial government’s diamond driller, was not convinced. He tried many schemes to get a response and finally hooked up a steam whistle and sent down a shrill, piercing blast. Listening at the opening, Billy finally heard a faint tapping at the other end of the pipe. The news of the break-through sent newspapers in Canada and the United States rushing to print extra editions with massive headlines advising the world that the men were still alive.

The drill pipe became a lifeline through which candles, matches; chocolate, hot soup, medicine and brandy were lowered down to the trapped men. In time, a small microphone was sent down the pipe so they could talk to their anxious wives and the rescuers. Meanwhile, water in the lower mine workings was rising at an alarming rate, threatening to drown them before the rescuers could reach them. Then, on Monday morning Magill died of pneumonia; for him the long ordeal was over.

At 6 p.m. that evening Willis made his first broadcast to Canada and the United States and stations in Great Britain and Europe. This massive hook-up of radio stations made radio history in North America. His first broadcast bringing his vast audience up to date lasted almost 15 minutes and was considered one of the longest on record. It began with the words, “This the Canadian Radio Commission broadcasting from Moose River, Halifax County.” From then until midnight two-minute reports were broadcast informing listeners on the plight of the trapped men and the progress of the rescue.

Finally, at 11:40 p.m. on Wednesday, April 22, the rescue workers broke into the underground chamber that held the two remaining survivors. A little over an hour later, Doctor Robertson appeared on the surface. After embracing his wife and thanking his rescuers, he was hurried off to a nearby field hospital. Members of the Salvation Army, who had arrived over muddy, rutted roads the day before to make coffee and pass out doughnuts, led the rescue workers in singing “Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow.”

About 16 minutes later Scadding arrived on the surface and was also rushed to the field hospital. Two of the rescuers returned down the mine to retrieve Magill’s body.

Frank Willis made his last broadcast at 2 a.m. Thursday morning. In all, he made 92 broadcasts, a record for on-the-spot news coverage. Doing so, he helped make radio more than just a source of entertainment – he made it a quick, reliable news medium.

Willis, suddenly popular, was deluged with lucrative offers from the United States to make endorsements and public appearances – he refused.

Today a stone cairn and bronze plaque mark the site where the heroic rescue captivated millions of radio listeners across North America for 10 days and created a new type of journalism.

The genesis of today’s live, on-the-spot coverage of world events lies in the small mining village of Moose River, Nova Scotia.