大多时候，他们从黑暗的矿里探出头，眯眼盯着光亮。大多时候，他们从矿里探出身，满是汗水和尘垢。大多时候，他们能够回家。但不是那天。
These men - these husbands, fathers, grandfathers, brothers sons, uncles, nephews - they did not take on their job unaware of the perils. Some of them had already been injured; some of them had seen a friend get hurt. So they understood there were risks. And their families did, too. They knew their kids would say a prayer at night before they left. They knew their wives would wait for a call when their shift ended saying everything was okay. They knew their parents felt a pang of fear every time a breaking news alert came on, or the radio cut in.
这些人，这些丈夫、父亲、祖父、弟兄、儿子、叔父、侄子，他们从事这份工作时，并没有忽视其中的风险。他们中的一些已经负伤，一些人眼见朋友受伤。所以，他们知道有风险。他们的家人也知道。他们知道，在自己去矿上之前，孩子会在夜晚祈祷。他们知道妻子在焦急等待自己的电话，通报今天的任务完成，一切安好。他们知道，每有紧急新闻播出，或是广播被突然切断，他们的父母会感到莫大的恐惧。
But they left for the mines anyway - some, having waited all their lives to be miners; having longed to follow in the footsteps of their fathers and their grandfathers. And yet, none of them did it for themselves alone.
但他们还是离开家园，来到矿里。一些人毕生期盼成为矿工;他们期待步入父辈走过的道路。然而，他们并不是为自己做出的选择。