Iowahawk is back (sans comments, apparently), from an alphabetical tour of our great land:

“Fire in the hole!” I was deep inside the West Virginia coal mine when I heard the bossman’s voice echo through its maze-like tunnels. I began scurrying for the entrance when suddenly the dynamite blast shook the walls, and I was buried under an avalanche of dirt and support timbers. I struggled and clawed my way toward a faint light, and after several hours I emerged from that tomb into the sweet fresh air of the valley, and hugged the bossman, grateful to be alive. “Um, I think you forgot your pickaxe,” he reminded me. As I headed back down the mineshaft, I heard the bossman calling the dynamite store for more dynamite.