Tag: The Big Miner

  • Big John, Helper, Utah

    Big John, Helper, Utah, United States of America

    Look at me and my big, black friend! Of course, as a progressive gentleman I’m proud to have many friends of colour, including Larry Fishburne, Halle Berry, and that dude who sings in Counting Crows.

    Wait, maybe he’s not black. But he does have a great set of dreadlocks, so I’ll count him anyway.

    Anyway, back to Big John, the 18-foot-tall coal-black miner who stands silently outside the local library in Helper, Utah. With his square jaw and robust physique, John has watched over the sleepy main street for decades, with the Uinta Mountains rising solemnly behind him.

    And, I’m pleased to say, Big John’s story is every bit as extravagant as he is.

    Back in the early-60s, the proud people of this historic village were in a state of flux, as Helper transitioned from coal mining hub to tourist mecca. With the Western Mining and Railroad Museum – widely known as ‘the Utah Disneyland’ – ready to open, a committee decided that a major miner was the best way to capitalise on the waves of holidaymakers. Sounds like a drill-a-minute experience to me!

    The Helperians approached the good folk at International Fiberglass – yes, those responsible for Harvey the Rabbit and Chicken Boy – to construct a collier of extraordinary proportions. Starting with a mould of Paul Bunyan, the team swapped out the axe for a prodigious pick and packed him off to the mines.

    With their tall, dark and handsome prospector on the way, the good people of Helper just needed to sit back, relax, and wait for the tourist dollars to start pouring in. But first they needed a name just as big and bombastic as as their hero…

    You were always on my mine

    Ev’ry mornin’ at the mine you could see him arrive
    He stood six-foot-six and weighed two-forty-five
    Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip
    And everybody knew, ya didn’t give no lip… to Big John!

    In 1964, the streets of Helper hung heavy with the dulcet tones of Jimmy Dean and his poignant hit, Big Bad John. The tale of a brawny coal miner who meets his fate at the bottom of a pit, the song resonated with the hardworking locals. And so it was only fitting that their shiny new Big would borrow the name.

    Although the Helperians did drop ‘Bad’ from the name, possibly to avoid a copyright claim from Jimmy Dean’s notoriously dogged legal team. Or maybe because there’s nothing naughty about this fellow at all. Big John is a kind, considerate and surprisingly sensitive giant, with a broad smile for all who wander the dusty streets of Helper.

    Sadly, Big John’s not allowed into the bar up the road, because they don’t serve miners – teehee!

    As he stands afore the well-stocked library, I took the opportunity to stretch out ‘neath John’s size-72 boots and polish off a few chapters of Between a Rock and a Hard Place, a romance novel set in the coal mines of 1870s Utah.

    Of course, with that cheeky grin beaming down at me, I found it impossible to concentrate and kept reading the same page over and over again!

    Johnny Be Good!

    Big John’s just as coal as a cucumber and certainly never boering. So it comes as no surprise that he’s inspired several other Bigs around the globe – and you won’t have to dig deep to find ’em!

    Standing in John’s towering shadow, one can’t help draw comparisons to another ruggedly gorgeous pitman on the opposite side of the world. Map the Miner, a 23-foot copper excavator, guards the South Australian hamlet of Kapunda. Two big, strong, working chaps who all the boys want and all the girls want to be.

    Then there’s The Big Gold Panner Man, The Big Miner’s Lamp and The Big Gold Pick and Pan, all on the edge of the Aussie desert. For something closer to Utah, there are a couple of gigantic prospectors just outside Las Vegas for those hoping to strike it rich!

    Over the years John’s helped Helper grow and flourish into a quirky, artistic outpost with some high-class restaurants if you’re into fine mining. It’s also become a town that prides itself on ethnic diversity. With a noble black man as its most famous resident, how could it be anything but?

    Big John, the Utahn miner with a face full of soot and a heart full of gold, has shown the world that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. We can achieve racial harmony through oversized roadside attractions.

    Bigs, my friends, not bigotry.

  • Map the Miner, Kapunda, SA

    Map the Miney, Kapunda, South Australia

    There’s nothing minor about this miner! Seven metres tall, carved from bronze and with his oversized tool in his hand, Map the Miner will dig his way into your heart.

    Guarding the entrance to the ambrosial village of Kapunda, Map casts a brutally masculine figure amongst the lapidarian landscape. He’s intimidatingly large and, whilst his monochrome complexion may pale in comparison to flashier Bigs such as the nearby Rocking Horse and Protest Statues, it perfectly reflects the dusty, harsh monotony of a miner’s life.

    Perfectly-proportioned and ravishingly robust, Map’s the sort of guy any girl would love to take home to meet her parents – if only he’d fit through the front door! Let’s call a spade a spade, you’ve got rocks in your head if you don’t fall maply in love with Map.

    Map – a mysterious fellow who also goes by the pseudonyms Map Kernow and The Son of Cornwall – was built as a tribute to Kapunda’s proud Cornish mining history. The quarry operated from 1844 to 1878, luring in a myriad of dirty-fingered Englishmen and altering the history of this remote outpost forever. Yes, there’s certainly nothing boring about this bad boy.

    Alright, alright, sorry for all the Cornish jokes – teehee!

    Just copper look at him!

    Local chap John Davidson, entranced by legends of the Cornish miners, suggested in 1986 that the town build a monumental monument to his heroes. Dutch artist Ben van Zetten, whose heart was also set aflutter by the area’s rich history, agreed to design and construct the humongous hunk out of fibreglass. Kapundians of all shapes and sizes and ages and ethnicities came together as one to raise money for the project.

    Astonishingly, it took just three months to build Map – one-third the time it takes to gestate an actual Cornish miner. Map was originally meant to have a working torch attached to his humongous helmet, but it was removed because it caused him to feel light-headed.

    The statue was officially opened during Australia’s Bicentennial celebrations in 1988. Locals and visitors, dressed in historically-accurate mining tunics, gorged themselves on saffron cake, clotted cream, jellied eels and other vaguely repulsive Cornish snacks.

    Whilst the life of a your average miner may be marinated in backbreaking work and soul-crushing loneliness, Map had a happy existence on the edge of the outback.

    But then, tragically, Map hit rock bottom.

    Oh, oh, oh, I’m on fire!

    June 1, 2006, is a date seared into the memories of the good people of Kapunda. The earth was cool but the air was torrid when they woke to the sounds of screaming and the unmistakable cacophony of a Big Thing burning. When they stumbled, clad in rumpled pyjamas and wiping sweet dreams from their eyes, into the streets, they found the charred remains of Map the Miner.

    Kapunda has never truly recovered.

    The culprit scarcely deserves the dignity of having his actions immortalised on this website, but he will forever be indelibly linked to the story of this brave Big. Like most of the world’s problems, this calamity was born of a mixture of teenage testosterone and interpretive dancing. A pimple-faced troublemaker, barely out of nappies and wishing to take a photo of himself boogying ‘fore Map whilst ensconced in a ring of fire, poured lighter fluid onto the giant.

    And then, in a moment of madness, he lit a match.

    The adolescent had hoped to capture something that would set his MySpace page alight. Instead, he tore the heart out of a battling town and selfishly stomped on it like the worthless creep he is. Map was utterly destroyed but, thankfully, there was light at the end of the tunnel. The sculpture was insured and Ben van Zetten was able to rebuild Map in less than a year, this time in bronze.

    Map was back, bigger and badder and shinier than ever. I guess every cloud has a silver mining.

    Not surprisingly, that teenage thug wasn’t seen around town following his act of terror. There’s lots of places to bury a body around Kapunda, and that’s all I’ll say about that.

    And they all lived Mappily ever after

    “See, Bigs, that’s a real man,” Gordon swooned as we rolled into Kapunda in the Bigsmobile. I was jealous of the attention he lavished on another man, of course. But, as Gordon nuzzled into Map’s brawny arms and planted a tender kiss upon his square jaw, I knew he was right. By most standards I’m a tough guy brimming with unbridled machismo, but I’m nothing compared to a guy like Map.

    I’m not happy to admit it, but I put my normally demure personality to one side in order to perform a raunchy dance for Map. No matter how rhythmically I swayed my hips or elegantly I batted my eyelids, the copper colossus remained unmoved. This was one excavator who would not be lured in by the wiles of one Bigs Bardot.

    “Bigs, please, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Gordon said quietly, placing his furry hands upon my excitable hips in order to calm them down. “Map might be a miner, but he’s not interested in seeing your shaft.”

    Honestly, Gordon, mine your own your own business. I love Map and I’d be lost without him!