“Alright, we’re going to have everyone turn out their lights.”
If you’ve visited Mammoth Cave National Park (or really any show cave in the country) you’ve probably had an experience like this. Deep in the cavern, all the lights are put out, plunging visitors into a darkness that can only be experienced in the subterranean.
For almost everyone, it’s an uncomfortable experience — but the lights always come back on after a few moments.
That was not the case for one particular Kentucky cave explorer. A hundred years ago, motivated to make his fortune, a man descended into a fragile subterranean passageway. He never came out. Trapped in the darkness, alone, he would perished two weeks later.
Though a nightmarish tragedy, the man would never be forgotten. His death brought national attention to the caves of central Kentucky, jumpstarting a movement to protect an underground landscape as a national park.
Competition in Cave Country
In 1925, owning a show cave in central Kentucky was big business. The Mammoth Cave had been known and used by Euro-Americans since the early 1800s, with its indigenous history stretching back even further. Prior to the Civil War, it became more heavily developed as a tourist destination. Enslaved men like the acclaimed Stephen Bishop were employed as guides, discovering and mapping new passageways.
As Mammoth Cave became famous, farmers in the surrounding area began discovering entrances to subterranean passageways and chambers on their own property. Some discovered intricate geologic formations like stalactites and flowstone. These formations set smaller caves apart from Mammoth Cave, which was known for its huge dry passageways and very few of the delicate structures formed by the dripping of water.
As in many cases, tapping into the tourism industry dollars was far more profitable than traditional ways of living. The cave tourism boom drove Kentuckians to probe sinkholes and hillsides, looking for cave openings that they may be able to exploit. One businessman, George Morrison, believed that his fortune could be made by discovering — or creating — a new entrance to Mammoth Cave.
In 1921, through cunning and illegal methods, he speculated that a certain sinkhole might connect to a passageway of Mammoth Cave. He purchased the land and blasted through the sinkhole, opening up a new entrance to the subterranean maze. When he discovered the signature of a Mammoth Cave guide underground, he knew he’d struck cave country gold — he now owned the “New Entrance to Mammoth Cave.”
This new entrance became extremely profitable for Morrison, especially after his company discovered the Frozen Niagara formation in 1923. The land was purchased for Mammoth Cave National Park in 1931, for the equivalent of $6.5 million. To this day, some official park tours still use Morrison’s New Entrance.
Fortune-seeking turns tragic
It was the success of men like George Morrison that drove Floyd Collins into Sand Cave, which can be accessed by a short trail in the modern day park. Collins was a lifelong spelunker, having already explored and developed a show cave on his father’s property. Unfortunately, Collins’ Crystal Cave was too far off the main roads to bring in enough tourists to be profitable. For this reason, Floyd Collins struck a deal with the owner of Sand Cave, which was strategically located on well-traveled routes. If Sand Cave could be profitably developed, Collins would split the proceeds with the landowner.
Unfortunately for Collins, Sand Cave wanted to keep its secrets. The deeper Collins explored, the tighter the passageways became. In some cases, he was required to slither on his stomach, hands pinned to his sides, sliding his lantern forward with his shoulder. Nevertheless, the thought of making his fortune drove Collins deeper into the cave.
On the morning of January 30, 1925, Floyd Collins entered Sand Cave for the final time. While attempting to exit the cave, a 27 pound rock and hundreds of pounds of gravel were dislodged from the stone ceiling, trapping him inside a tight underground passageway. With no fuel left in his lantern, Collins was plunged into darkness, several dozen feet beneath the surface. The velvet darkness wrapped around him, muffling his cries for help from deep within the earth. “I knew my chance was slim, but I couldn’t give up without doing something,” he said. “So I just shouted and shouted.”
After several hours, friends and neighbors realized that Collins was missing. When his coat was discovered hanging in the entrance to Sand Cave, his friends and neighbors assumed the worst. A 17-year-old boy braved the constricting passageways of Sand Cave as far as he could. He was able to make contact with Collins, confirming he was alive. Food and drink followed — and a rescue mission was kicked off.
Over the course of more than two weeks, multiple rescue attempts were made to extract Collins from the cave. Simply digging him out proved impossible due to the angle of the passageway. When a cave-in cut off access to Floyd through the entrance of Sand Cave, rescuers tried to dig 60 feet straight down from the surface. Despite all these attempts, Collins perished in Sand Cave, overcome by the cold, damp environment.
The glittering good found in Floyd Collins tragedy
In the midst of these rescue attempts and the impending tragedy, a reporter with the Louisville Courier named William “Skeets” Miller was able to make contact with Floyd. He interviewed the trapped cave explorer, producing a series of articles that gained national attention.
Like the caves themselves, Miller’s articles brought in waves of tourists to the gruesome scene. The entrance to Sand Cave became surrounded by a strange pseudo-carnival. Refreshments and beverages could be purchased by the sightseers, most of whom did nothing to contribute to the rescue attempts. All came to gawk at the low-hung cave entrance that had swallowed a man whole.
Tourists weren’t the only ones gripped by Miller’s account of Collins’ entrapment. State and national politicians kept up with the reports, offering aid and support where possible. For his February 5, 1925, interview with Floyd, Miller was awarded the Pulitzer Prize.
Floyd Collins’ nightmarish end was a tragedy, but like the discovery of glittering formations in the gloomy corner of a cavern, it brought about some good. In the 1920s, the National Park Service was in search of landscapes worthy of protection near major population centers. Collins’ story brought attention to the cave country south of Louisville, boosting campaigns for preservation in the region.
In 1926, Mammoth Cave National Park was authorized, along with Shenandoah and the Great Smoky Mountains. In 1941, it was officially dedicated as the second national park protecting an otherworldly subterranean resource.
To learn more about the establishment of Mammoth Cave, Great Smoky Mountains, and Shenandoah National Parks, check out Will De Man’s book, A Short History of the National Parks: The Southeast.
You must be logged in to post a comment.