By CATHY MIGLORIE SPECIAL TO THE HERALD – Published: November 6, 2009

It is February 1931. From the bed of the quarry in Yule, Colo., a 56-ton block of pure white marble, specially chosen for the great shrine that is to become the sarcophagus of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, is about to be raised from the depths. Successful achievement of this task would epitomize the great progress of marble quarrying in America at the time.

Quarrymen were known for their poise and calm when dealing with the huge blocks, averaging in size of 8 to 10 tons, raising them from the quarry floor in sure precision to place carefully on a rail flat car or the quarry edge. Raising the 56-ton block for the Tomb, however, was a task of monumental proportions. The story that follows is taken from National Association of Marble’s monthly publication, “Through the Ages,” published in May 1931.

“To the visitor who is unfamiliar with the handling of stone, seasoned American quarrymen always impress him as a quiet lot going about their business with a nonchalance which quite belies the tremendous power and great masses with which they deal. Watch them, some day, raise an average size block of marble from the quarry floor without a trace of nervousness or the least excitement.

“But one day not so long ago this attitude was lacking among a little group of men working on the cliff face of a Colorado mountain nearly 10,000 feet above sea level. There was a tenseness about them not entirely caused by the snapping cold of mid-winter. To the experienced eye they were about to perform an unusual task. A glance at the derrick revealed its massiveness, its special reinforced bracing, its noticeably heavy rigging. It had been shipped all the way from Vermont expressly for this occasion. The stout boom, also reinforced, leaned out over a quarry opening and from its head dropped the thick cable into the depths below.

“A signal was given. Motors hummed. The cable slowly became taut. The great boom moved ponderously, and expert eyes traveled quickly over every part of the equipment to see that it met the strain without signs of weakening. Control levers were eased forward the merest fraction of an inch; the operator could take no chances with a fatal jerk.

“One hundred and twenty-five feet below on the quarry floor a great white mass groaned, slid an inch or two, then, at a pace scarcely visible, was lifted towards the square of light above. To those watchers on the surface, what seemed a small rectangle of white on the quarry floor slowly grew and grew as it neared the top until it threatened to more than fill the mouth of the quarry. At last it reached the opening, and out into the white light of winter swung the gleaming 56-ton block of Yule, Colo., marble, a nation’s tribute in the rough to that Unknown Soldier who sleeps near the entrance of the Arlington Memorial Amphitheatre.

“It is true that to produce a block of marble weighing 56 tons is not a record-breaking feat in American quarrying; but getting out a block of this size in any quarry involves a vast amount of intensive preparatory work, especially when, as in this case, the quarries are situated high up in almost inaccessible mountain ranges. When this huge piece finally was brought safely to the surface, more than a year had passed since operations had been started to cut it from the bed of the quarry. During that time a railroad had been extended 600 feet along the side of the mountain to connect directly with the quarry opening.

“Another difficult task faced those in charge of the work when it came to lowering the block from the quarry level down the steep incline of the new track to the main line. A special skid of oak timbers was built with one end resting on two small rail-wheels. The block, fastened to this skid, was then snubbed down the spur track to the lower level. Two electric locomotives were brought up to do the hauling. One was attached to the front, another to the rear, and the procession, one end of the massive block riding on the two wheels while the other end dragged on the rails, started over the three-and-a-half-mile course which twists and loops down the mountain to the town of Marble, a drop of 2,000 feet. The road contains several steep grades, one of which is 17 percent, and when the load passed over them the rear locomotive helped to hold back so that absolute control was maintained at every point.

“At Marble, the block was loaded by block and tackle on a regular railroad flat car for its long journey across the country to Vermont. It arrived there in the middle of February. Shortly afterward it was given a final inspection and the unanimous approval of the sculptor, the architect, the contractor, and a representative of the Quartermaster General’s Department.”

Now the craftsmen’s work begins. From the block’s first stop at the West Rutland mill for inspection, to the Proctor shops where much work is completed, and finally the journey to Washington, where the last of the carving is be executed under the direction of the sculptor, Thomas Hudson Jones.

The Vermont Marble Museum is seeking stories of the men who worked on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier for its new exhibit to be unveiled in May 2010. We encourage relatives and friends of the men to share information about them by contacting the Vermont Marble Museum, (802) 459-2300, or cmiglorie@vermont-marble.com.

Marble Minutes is designed to share the history of the marble industry in Vermont. It is part of the Dimensions of Marble program, which, through six distinct projects, will bring together the history of the marble quarries and workers, the communities in which they lived, the artistry of sculptors past and present, and the people, who over generations, created a multitude of new projects and brought prosperity to the region. For more information on Dimensions of Marble, visit www.dimensionsofmarble.org or e-mail Megan Smith, executive director at info@dimensionsofmarble.org.