Earns her third degreefrom GU

By Peter Tormey

Don't let Elaine Cullen's good looks and refinement fool you, she's a miner from way back.

In fact, this woman who now possesses three Gonzaga University degrees was the first woman in the nation to work in an underground coal mine doing research in 1972. She feels as much at home in and around mines as she does listening to a lecture in Gonzaga's Doctoral Program in Leadership Studies where she has completed her dissertation about the culture of hardrock miners.

Sheformally received her Ph.D. during Gonzaga's Graduate Studies Commencement, Saturday, May 8 in the Martin Centre.

To say Cullen knows miners would be an understatement. She knows them inside and out, from their rough and tumble profession in which they risk their lives daily to much of the science and engineering surrounding the work. And, she's no stranger to the miners' colorful and unique vernacular. Cullen's heard and seen it all – and included much of what she's observed and discovered through in-depth interviews with miners and their families in her dissertation tentatively titled, "The Culture of Western Hard Rock Mining and the Role it Played in the Sunshine Mine Fire."

The Sunshine Mine, located in North Idaho's Silver Valley town of Kellogg, was the site of one of last century's worst American disasters. Ninety-one of the 173 miners working that fateful day – May 2, 1972 – died. Eighty men escaped and two others were found alive after eight days. The rescue efforts lasted 13 days.

Cullen also produced a documentary film about the Sunshine that aired last September on public television in Spokane and North Idaho. The documentary was based on interviews with 27 people who survived the fire, worked on the rescue efforts or were community members at the time.

"In many cases, the stories they shared with me were the first time they had ever discussed their experiences during the fire," Cullen said.

In Cullen's case study of the disaster, she sought to better understand the culture of hard rock mining and, in particular, what members of the Sunshine Mine culture felt about the disaster. One anomaly that quickly bubbled up was the then widespread, yet mistaken, belief among hard rock miners that "hard rock mines don't burn." Although scores of documents were produced after the disaster, she could find none dealing with the miners and their families.

"I was really interested in what these people felt about the disaster," Cullen said. "No one had ever asked them about it."

According to one of her research conclusions, applied generally, if job uncertainty is high so too should be employee vigilance.

"If you want to survive in a dangerous culture you must be vigilant," she said. "That's why so many miners survived that disaster. In order to survive and thrive you must become more realistic."

Another fact Cullen uncovered was the strength of the bond among miners to help each other at all cost. Nearly all of the miners who escaped the fire volunteered to strap 42-pound oxygen tanks on their backs, put their hard hats back on and go right back into the 126-degree, smoke-filled underground mine to rescue their comrades.

"There's a great strength about them," she said. "They are truly remarkable."

Cullen also noticed how leadership changed during the disaster and how readily the miners acknowledged and accepted new leaders for their particular knowledge – regardless of experience or informal rank.

"If you lose your belief that the person leading you can protect you, then you can't follow," Cullen said, citing the case of a 23-year-old miner with little experience who handed out breathing devices – known as self-rescuers – and instructed his fellow miners in using them.

As a result of the disaster, federal underground mining regulations were virtually rewritten with the Mining Act of 1977 that incorporated lessons learned from the Sunshine.

As part of her research, Cullen also will chronicle the western miners' attitudes toward their work and their lives.

"Their whole attitude seemed to be one of, 'We work hard and play harder because tomorrow may be my last day,' " Cullen said. "It's not that they expect disaster, but they are realistic enough to know that it may happen."

As a result of the work-hard-play-harder attitude, Cullen noticed an entire subculture around the area of miners' "play": Lots of "toys" (vehicles, sporting equipment, firearms), alcohol and the occasional trip to one of the houses of prostitution in the Silver Valley, which were legal until 1988.

"The women in this culture did not consider prostitution to be a problem in any way," Cullen said, adding the "businesses" were known by some in the community as houses of "commercial affection."

Cullen's Gonzaga connections run deep. She hails from the Yakima Valley town of Sunnyside and is one of nine children. Several of her sisters and her father are alumni. A high school class valedictorian and talented flautist, she received scholarships from the Elks and Gonzaga that, combined, covered virtually all her costs. She earned a bachelor's degree in English in 1972, attended Gonzaga-in-Florence, took several years of graduate engineering courses, and earned an MBA in 1992 before beginning her doctoral work. One of her four children is a GU sophomore. Another daughter is married to Fritzie Wolff, the son of GU Trustee Alvin J. Wolff, Jr.

Cullen serves as communications chief for the Spokane Research Laboratory, a federal agency that is part of the National Institute of Occupational Safety and the Centers for Disease Control where she has worked since 1971. She has been wildly successful developing a series of safety training videos for miners – along with assistant Ted Teske ('00) who plays the role of the green new hire – that have been circulated to 32 countries. Her Sunshine Mine video won a coveted national Telly Award for excellence.