Penny Loeb is a distinguished author and the web designer for http://www.wvcoalfield.com , who has generously allowed her articles to be reprinted here.

A sign along Route 52 between Delbarton and the BP station at the top of the hill tells drivers when they have arrived at Pie. No sign marks the nearby community of Pigeon Creek, but its residents have made themselves known to the DEP over the past few years.

Water and wells have been the prime concern for people in Pigeon Creek for several years. The area has been extensively deep mined by Mingo Logan (a division of Arch Coal Inc.) and Old Ben Coal. In one six month period in 1995, at least 25 households lost their wells. Some replacement wells were 500 feet deep.

Nearly 100 Pigeon Creek residents met with then DEP commisisoner Eli McCoy in the summer of 1995. He commited to settling the drinking water problems and to try to raise money for a public drinking water system. After that, the mines started drilling “proactive” wells—before they went dry.

One family who did not get a well replacement was Jimmy and Debbie Hatfield. They and their next-door neighbor have lived for some time with water tanks. The water is not fit for drinking, they say. It also runs out at inopportune times like during a shower or load of laundry. The Hatfields had inspectors from both the DEP and federal Office of Surface Mining. They all denied the water loss was mine related.

The Hatfields’ 18-year-old house is also damaged from mining, they believe. The front porch brick wall has dropped two inches. The front door does not close properly, and the wood siding is cracked. There are cracked in the walls at the entrace of the stairway at the west end of the house.

However, an OSM inspector found that the mine was too far away from the house to be affected by mining. He said the cracks were caused by shrinkage of the soil. The Hatfields appealed, asking for an informal review of the decision by the Charleston OSM office. They said that the shrinkage did not occur until the mine had dewatered the aquifer.

A geologist at OSM determined there could be some connection between the mine activity and the loss of water. Finally in early January, several OSM and DEP officials returned to the Hatfields. An OSM official ordered DEP to have a well drilled within 30 days. A small victory.

Down the road about three miles, along Rover Branch, the problems come from the Cumberland River Coal Co. mountaintop mine. James Taylor and his family have lived at the end of the hollow for decades. Never did they have the flooding from the mountainside that they had in late June and early July of 1997. And it happened twice in 10 days.

Their photographs show the Taylors’ yard entirely washed away after the second storm. They were in Tennessee and
decided to stay there for a month. Not only was their yard hit, but most of the road down to Route 52 was washed out. Now a new road has been built.

After the first flood, DEP officials told Taylor, “It was an act of God. He was skeptical. When the flood came a second time, the DEP official said, “You aren’t going to believe this. But it was another act of God.” Taylor didn’t believe it.

Patricia Bragg lives up Nighway Branch, between Rover Branch and Pigeon Creek. She has been a community leader on mining issues for several years. “Our people are still being treated with the same disrespect and belittling attitude that our ancestors were,” she said. “Why, it’s not because we are uncaring or a danger to society but simply because we are hill and holler people. They call it progress. I call it slaughter of a culture that has to fight to retain its way of life.”

Penny Loeb is a distinguished author and the web designer for http://www.wvcoalfield.com , who has generously allowed her articles to be reprinted here.

The houses were old, but they were the only homes some of the residents had ever known. Now about half the houses are gone.

In 1999, Superior Bottom had about two dozen homes clustered along Island Creek, about two miles south of Omar in Logan County. When the mining was at its peak in the first half of the century, the community had nearly 100 homes, climbing up the hill and even on stilts. It was known as the “colored community” and had its own school, one of the largest in the county.

The blacks stayed on after mining dwindled away. They were able to buy the houses, most of which had been owned by the Curry family. Some thrived. James Major was a leader of the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s. His daughter, Joan Hairston, founded New Directions for Women. And his grandaughter was valedictorian at Logan High School. Joan Hairston still lives in Superior Bottom, and New Directions for Women continues. She works with black teenagers in the high school, setting many on a successful path to college and careers.

Mining is returning to the area, only now it is a Massey mountaintop mine. It will take the mountains behind Superior Bottom. But that isn’t all Massey desires. It plans a preparation plant on the flat land of the community. In the fall of 1999, company officials began approaching residents with offers to buy them out. The houses were large, but mostly dilapitated. Most were long, two-story structures, with room enough to hold several families. One house, to the right of the bridge over Island Creek, is well-maintained, with an abundance of flowers and lawn decorations. Still, the mine officials offered most people only about $35,000 for their homes. Some felt they had no alternatives–they didn’t want to live by a prep plant.

In late October 1999, a black woman in her 70s sat in a living room surrounded by the boxes and bags of her life. It had been her father’s house and her only home. She would be leaving soon. But $35,000 wouldn’t buy her a house in Logan. She was moving in with her son. “It’s sad,” she said.

Bulldozers and shovels removed her house and several across the street in the first months of 2000. But so far, there is no prep plant. At one end of the community, the closed school building remains. Joan Hairston bought it and isn’t letting Massey have it. They can’t build the plant without that land. Joan herself remains, too, as does the teacher who lives in the house to the right of the bridge. In the fall of 2000, the bridge was dedicated to James Major. Whether it will be a bridge to nowhere remains to be decided.