Gray Mountain: A Novel(51)

All the lights were on in Donovan’s office long after sunset. She walked by it once around 8:00, started to knock, but decided not to disturb him. At 9:00 she was at her desk, primarily because she wanted to avoid her apartment, and not really working. She called his cell and he answered it. “Are you busy?” she asked.

“Of course I’m busy. I start a trial tomorrow. What are you doing?”

“I’m at the office, puttering, bored.”

“Come on over. I want you to meet someone.”

They were in his war room, upstairs, the tables covered with open books and files and legal pads. Donovan introduced her to one Lenny Charlton, a jury consultant from Knoxville. He described the man as an overpaid but frequently effective analyst, and he described Samantha simply as a lawyer/friend who was on his side. Samantha wondered if Donovan insulted all the experts he hired.

He asked Lenny, “Ever hear of Marshall Kofer out of D.C.? Once a high-flying aviation trial lawyer?”

“Of course,” Lenny said.

“Her dad. But there’s nothing in the DNA. She avoids courtrooms.”

“Smart lady.”

They were ending a long session in which they had gone through the list of sixty prospective jurors. Lenny explained, for her benefit, that his firm was paid trifling wages to conduct background searches of every person on the list, and that the chore was difficult given the tight and incestuous nature of coalfield communities. “Excuses, excuses,” Donovan mumbled, almost under his breath. Lenny explained further that picking juries in coal country was dicey because everyone had a friend or a relative who worked either for a company that mined coal or for one that provided services to the industry.

Samantha listened with fascination as they discussed the last few names on the list. One woman’s brother worked at a strip mine. One woman’s father had been a deep miner. One man lost his adult son in a construction accident, but it wasn’t related to coal. And so on. There seemed to be something wrong with this spying game, of allowing litigants to peek into the private lives of unsuspecting people. She would ask Donovan about it later if she had the chance. He looked tired and seemed a bit edgy.

Lenny left a few minutes before ten. When they were alone, she asked, “Why don’t you have co-counsel for this trial?”

“I often do, but not this case. I prefer to do it myself. Strayhorn and its insurance company will have a dozen dark suits swarming around their table. I like the contrast, just Lisa Tate and me.”

“David and Goliath, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“How late will you work?”

“I don’t know. I won’t sleep much tonight, or this week for that matter. Comes with the territory.”

“Look, I know it’s late and you have better things to worry about, but I have to ask you something. You’ve offered me a part-time job as a research assistant, a paid position, so I would become an employee of your firm, right?”

“Right. Where is this going?”

“Hang on. I’m not sure I want to work for you.”

He shrugged. Whatever. “I’m not begging.”

“Here’s the question: Do you have in your possession documents—the bad documents as you and Vic call them—owned by Krull Mining pertaining to the contamination of the groundwater in Hammer Valley, documents that you’re not supposed to have?”

His dark and tired eyes flashed with anger but he bit his tongue, hesitated, then smiled.

“It’s a direct question, Counselor,” she said.

“I get that. So, if the answer is yes, then I suppose you’ll decline the job and we’ll still be friends, right?”

“You answer my question first.”

“And if the answer is no, then you might consider working for me, right?”

“I’m still waiting, Counselor.”

“I plead the Fifth Amendment.”

“Fair enough. Thank you for the offer but I’ll say no.”

“As you wish. I have lots of work to do.”




Black lung is a legal term for a preventable, occupational lung disease. It is more formally known as coal workers’ pneumoconiosis (CWP), and is caused by prolonged exposure to coal dust. Once coal dust is inhaled into the body it cannot be removed or discharged. It progressively builds up in the lungs and can lead to inflammation, fibrosis, even necrosis. There are two forms of the disease: “simple CWP” and “complicated CWP” (or progressive massive fibrosis).

Black lung is a common affliction among coal miners, both in deep mines and surface mines. It is estimated that 10% of all miners with 25 years experience develop the disease. It is debilitating and usually fatal. Approximately 1500 miners die each year from black lung, and because of the insidious nature of the disease, their deaths are almost always slow and agonizing. There is no cure and no effective medical treatment.

The symptoms are shortness of breath and a constant cough that often yields a black mucus. As these grow worse, the miner faces the dilemma of whether or not to pursue benefits. Diagnosis is fairly straightforward: (1) an exposure history to coal dust; (2) a chest X-ray; and (3) the exclusion of other causes.

In 1969, Congress passed the Federal Coal Mine Health and Safety Act which established a compensation system for victims of black lung. The law also set up standards to reduce coal dust. Two years later, Congress created the Black Lung Disability Trust Fund and funded it with a federal tax on coal production. In this law, the coal industry agreed to a system designed to ease the identification of the disease and to guarantee compensation. If a miner had worked ten years and had medical proof—either an X-ray or autopsy evidence of severe black lung—then in theory he was to be awarded benefits. Also, a miner still working with black lung was to be transferred to a job with less exposure to dust without the loss of pay, benefits, or seniority. As of July 1, 2008, a miner with black lung receives $900 a month from the Trust.