Former Coal Camp Resident Tells All

Nancy Valdez

For most of us, life in a coal camp is something we have only read about in history books or seen in old photographs. But for Nancy Valdez of Raton, New Mexico, it is a vivid memory, a time she remembers with a mixture of nostalgia and pride, a time she describes as both hard and beautiful. “It was the best time of my life,” Nancy says. “Because people were just people. Everyone knew one another, everyone helped one another, and there was no prejudice or judgment.”

Nancy grew up in Koehler, New Mexico, a small coal camp just 22 miles outside of Raton. Koehler was a close community where miners and their families lived in houses owned by Kaiser Steel Corp. Life revolved around the rhythms of the coal mine. The camp, established in the early 1900s, brought together families from different backgrounds. Though the mines closed long ago and the town is mostly gone, the stories and memories of people like Nancy remain.

Remnants of a Koehler doctors office

Koehler was a mix of Hispanic and Greek families, where every neighbor was “aunt” or “uncle” and every child had dozens of playmates. In times of joy or tragedy, the community came together. “Everybody was in the same boat,” Nancy remembers. Families leaned on each other because life in the coal camp required everyone to help one another. Sports also brought the community together. Koehler had its own basketball team, and baseball games against other coal camps were major events that drew entire families to cheer. Dawson, a nearby mining town, was their rival, and victories were celebrated by the whole community.

Entertainment required creativity. There were no televisions, and radios were the main source of news and music. Nancy remembers afternoons spent listening to Spanish music programs or local news broadcasts. Most of the fun happened outdoors. Children played Red Rover, hopscotch, jacks, and jump rope. Sometimes a cellar became a makeshift theater, with a sheet for a curtain, and kids pretending to be singers or grown-ups.

Life in Koehler was not easy. Water had to be pumped from an outdoor well, there were no showers, and no refrigerators. Bathing was a daily task. Buckets of water were hauled from the pump, heated on the stove, and poured into a large tin washtub. Children bathed one after another before the water was finally emptied. “We bathed every day,” Nancy says. “You just had to make it work.”

Everything ran on coal and wood. Stoves kept the house warm, cooked meals, and heated the bathwater. Ashes had to be shoveled daily. Clothes were scrubbed on washboards or hand-cranked machines, and water was always carried in buckets. Food was a combination of store-bought and homemade. Nancy remembers making homemade ice cream during the winter months. Much of the food came from hunting or butchering at home. Nancy’s grandfather provided deer, elk, goats, and sheep, and every part of the animal was used. “Nothing was wasted,” she says.

From Coal to Sawdust

Nancy was raised in a household with her grandparents, Ezekiel and Marcelina Segura, along with uncles and cousins all living under one roof. The house was warm not just from the stove but from the closeness of family. Everyone worked hard, whether chopping wood, carrying water, or caring for younger siblings, yet life felt simple and safe.

When the Koehler mine closed, families scattered. Nancy’s family moved to Raton, where her father found work at the sawmill. The sawdust and lumber replaced the rhythm of coal cars and the sound of trains, but the memories of Koehler stayed with her.

“It was hard, but it was awesome,” she says. “If I could go back, I would. We did not worry about politics or money or television. We just lived, we helped each other, and we were happy.”

Her memories remind us that even without refrigerators or running water, without phones or television, there was richness in the way people lived. There was joy in homemade ice cream, warmth in shared bathwater, and comfort in the sound of neighbors laughing across the tracks.