The spill happened in a rural
county, in coal country, in Appalachia. No one died, few homes sustained damage.
Water fowl at large escaped the slime, although smaller creatures like turtles,
muskrats and frogs probably succumbed.
The biggest news story concerned the drinking water of local communities and
beyond. Five water treatment plants on the Tug Fork shut down their intake
source when the slick approached. The Big Sandy River ran black for 75 miles.
Cincinnati, followed by Louisville, closely monitored the spill after it entered
the Ohio River.
To the people in Martin County, however, the sludge moved in and stayed. For
years a 72 acre waste reservoir built over and beside a honey-comb of abandoned
underground mine works acted as a settling pond.
A preparation plant owned by Martin County Coal, a subsidiary of A.T. Massey,
washed coal and stored slurry in the pond where the heavy elements settled out
and the water clarified enough to return to the creeks. A roof collapse in the
abandoned mine ruptured the pond near its base and sludge flowed out two
openings. The spill's "more liquid form" gushed down Wolf Creek, while
the slower-moving sludge headed down Clearwater Fork. Had the spill not
bifurcated, it would have been reminiscent of the disaster at Buffalo Creek.
In 1972 an earthen dam built by the Pittston Corporation on Buffalo Creek in
West Virginia broke, spewing 132 million gallons of water and coal waste through
a 17-mile valley. Coming like a tidal wave, the spill killed 125 people, wiped
away three communities, injured 523 people and left 4,000 homeless.
Martin County, like many rural places with mineral deposits, relies on mining
for its economic survival. In 1998 more than 56% of the total county wages came
from coal mining.
Traditionally the economic system justifies the devastation of land and the
danger of slurry impoundments as the inevitable price a community pays for jobs
and tax revenues generated by the coal industry. But coal industry trends today
favor more advanced technology, reducing the number of workers, and industry
mergers weaken unions that diminish important community oversight. Coal
communities derive fewer economic benefits while incurring higher risks.
The future begs an economics that promises sustainable communities,
"communities where people and the rest of nature can live together in
harmony and not rob future generations," as the Catholic Appalachian
bishops wrote in their 1995 pastoral, "At Home in the Web of Life."
People of faith recognize the responsibility for building these sustainable
communities rests with everyone. The Kentucky Council of Churches issued a
statement which in part links the American lifestyle with the Martin County
disaster: "We continue to be gluttonous in our use of natural sources of
energy, creating the context for such accidents as the slurry spill to
occur."
No small community should live under a sword of Damocles, whether in the form
of toxic waste dump, polluted air or chemical contamination. Future safety for
small communities requires more diligently enforcing regulations with
corporations, and ultimately, reshaping the American lifestyle in accord with
our Christian biblical stewardship.
Read other articles of
Spiritual Enlightenment in the February 2001 edition of