*one

Elisa Young came to be an activist not necessarily by choice. In fact, as I’ve stated before, most of the people I have met while working on this project I can say the same thing about. She got involved in coal-related issues because at one point she realized how much the coal-related events happening locally affected her life. That’s not to say that her interests now are purely selfish, quite the contrary. Most activists tend to get involved because there is something suspicious going on in their backyard, they got fired up about it, and than want to help other people fight.

In Racine, Ohio Elisa has a beautiful farm that’s generations old. When I pulled into her driveway at almost 11 pm last week I noticed how quiet it was, how many stars were in the sky, and, completely out of place, on the horizon, 2 large smoke stacks going full throttle. What drew me initially to the Ohio River Valley, specifically Ohio, was the coal-burning plants. I knew that in order to really understand the issues I was working with, I had to take a look at coal start to finish. Although I’m mostly concentrating on extraction and local processing, the burning of the coal is what creates the energy that were so dependent on. What I didn’t really grasp before I went to Ohio was that within a 10 mile radius of this town, you could indeed find coal processes start to finish. Not only was there surface mining operations, but there are potential underground mines that have permits already submitted (not to mention the depleted underground mines). Coal is a frustrating battle…one of the reasons for this is that a permit usually just means “we’ll grant you the permit in less than a year” by the state’s environmental regulatory body. If coal is supposed to be a highly regulated process, where companies submit proposals, and people can have an input that is taken seriously, then it’s easy to understand why people feel helpless when something like a “submitted permit,” becomes nothing short of a formality.

In Racine there are permits in the works for underground mining, in an area already partially ravaged by underground mining, surface mining, and logging. Not to mention other chemical production plants, and of course, the huge coal-burning power plant (pictured several posts ago) which drew me to this town in the first place. Elisa drove me around Racine all the way to Cheshire before work so that I would have a sense of direction went I went out to explore. When people describe things, often they point at what they are talking about.

The smoke stacks in Cheshire and Racine were causing acid rain in Canada. So when Canada sued, the companies simply lowered the height of the stacks…in the process making it even worse for the people in the immediate area. While driving with Elisa, we kept passing houses where she told me horror stories about cancer. Officially, your chances of getting cancer in her area are double that of every where else. She swears the statistic should be more dramatic, having already fought and beat cancer once, while also recently showing 2 pre-signs of new cancer forming. She jokes that the one business that’s flourishing is the cancer centers (she works for a hospital).

She asks me point blank why certain communities are targeted with such a high number of devastating industries? After a pause, while being visibly upset, she tells me that it’s because they are already socially and economically marginalized, and thus it’s easy to isolate them.

*two

Larry is a guy I met when I stayed with Hannah in Appalachia. He is really fired up about surface mining, and he has reason to be. While I was in Virginia I learned the extent of the damage it’s had. A local map showed that more than 50% of the land in the immediate vicinity is active surface mining operations, or permitted (which again means it will more than likely be a site). In the photo above he talked about these mountains with a lot of emotion; he’s spent his life in them. He gets angry pretty quickly, knowing that the site pictured above is slated to continue for 9 miles until it hits right below downtown Appalachia. He has kids and grandkids and he simply states that they should have the mountains to play in, and clean water to fish and drink from. It’s a surprisingly simple concept, but emotionally loaded. When I asked him if he thought they would win the fight, he said he doesn’t know but that as long as he’s still living he’ll be making a big fuss about it.

*three

Al Proffitt also lives in Racine, OH. He came back to this place, where he grew up, to escape the pollution and urban-living in St. Louis where he spent his working life in a steel mill. Despite wanting to have a peaceful retirement, he now has to worry about the technicalities and legalities concerning the rich coal seam running under his land. Just because you own land, it doesn’t mean you own anything below a couple feet of the ground…or does it? His family has continued to pay property taxes for decades, under the assumption that that underground is really theirs. But coal companies armed with public records written in ambiguously defined terms think otherwise. Some of his land is and some of it’s not. But the city won’t give him a clear answer on if he’s been paying taxes on all of it or not. You can see here some of the documentation provided by the coal company, complete with parts hand-written in, which are definitely questionable:

Again, another story of an individual faced with a bureaucratic mess that has an industry on its side. Really, in the end, Al would like to live at his home and just not be bothered. After I took his portrait we talked about what the world is really coming to, and we agreed that “profit” is responsible for a lot of the ills facing the Appalachian community. Then I asked him to spell his name so I could send him a picture and he laughed and said, “Well, my last name’s Proffitt.” He also had amazing dogs:

*four

Guy Rose is one of my favorite people I have ever talked to in my entire life. He is 71 years old and still maintains an entire farm, complete with a garden, cattle, and a mechanic shop, takes care of his wife who is suffering from Alzheimer’s, and manages to take care of friends on neighboring farms. That’s not to say he doesn’t want to take it a little easy at his age. Simply enough, his $630 social security check can not cover medical bills, property taxes, and day-to-day living. He is forced to upkeep a small herd of bulls, garden his own food, and fix a variety of vehicles that need work and that he owns. Interestingly enough, it’s this “forced” self-sustainability, so to speak, that gives many people faith that Appalachia can survive without coal…many of the basics of self-sustaining communities are already widely practiced. That’s not to say that what folks in Appalachian are doing is merely unsophisticated versions of yuppie “urban green responsibility” bullshit, quite the contrary. People effectively are doing the things they need to do to survive, and they do it well.

Guy one day found a coal company core drill sampling on his property. He was infuriated and threatened them with the police. When the police and the public attorny refused to get involved, Guy forced them off himself. According to Guy, the day after they core sample drilled, the well that his family had been using on that land since the civil war “mysteriously” went dry. Because of this, he now hand-carries 2 tons of water (that he also must pay for) every week so that his cattle can survive. The cattle were pretty suspicious of me actually:

(In case you were wondering, that bus is still running).

So that’s how Guy unfortunately got wrapped up in this mess. He too lives in Racine, and now he is peripherally involved in fighting modern coal-caused problems. The coal company eventually offered to pay Guy for use of his land for core drill sampling, but first he had to sign a waiver that stated that the company could not be held liable for any claimed damage. As you might expect, he refused. He’s now worried about underground mining on his land. Recently a lot of land has been sinking and causing a lot of problems for people, especially when you wake up in the middle of the night to a house that has somehow fallen 13 feet. He tells me, “It’s just common sense- if you take stuff from under the ground it’s all gonna sink.”

On my way out, he, like many people on this trip have done so far, made me take an amazingly large zucchini from his garden. Somehow folks that really don’t have that much, never let me leave empty handed.