Coal mining’s legacy hits close to home

I was born here in 1944. I grew up on a farm outside of Palmer. I am a daughter of a coal miner, my father worked at Even Jones Coal Mine. Dad walked out one minute before the mine exploded, leaving many of my classmates fatherless. The value the mine placed on a miner’s life was $800.

I grew up with the smell of coal in the air, covering the snow and blowing in the wind. I spend a great deal of time in the Valley Hospital because of lung problems later attributed to coal dust and coal smoke.

The trains would pull into town, blocking the streets and cutting the town in two.

As a child I played in Moose Creek, hiked the gorge and caught king salmon. With the closing of mines and no longer using coal for heat, I was able to retire here as the air was cleaner.

I love my Valley, the Garden of Eden of Alaska. With so little of Alaska open to private ownership, of that a small fraction within a moderate climate and even a smaller amount suitable for farming, and this Valley being the fastest growing area in the nation, how can we justify allowing coal mining, strip or shaft, to develop so close to our Eden?

With Matanuska winds within category 3 hurricane force not uncommon, how can we justify a strip mine upwind of our Eden, the fastest growing area in the United States?

Have you walked the old mining sites? If so, you know that even after restoration there are pools of toxic chemicals. Our state spends our tax dollars restoring much of the land laid waste from mining.

Will we face that again?

As you know, as close as eight years ago walking the old Even Jones mine site the ground was warm, as the fire started half a century ago still burned. Will that be rekindled?

Usibelli has stated that the wind blows from the southwest, usually a few days. That is true, but what the company failed to mention was the rest of the year. In the winter the winds howl down the Matanuska, blast Palmer and Wasilla, snatching trees from the ground.

It is true that river silt is also caught in these winds. Should we be adding to that coal dust?

People are already feeling the economic changes, as their loans and purchase agreements have been denied due to their location near a strip mine, still in permit phase. We can only assume that once the mine is operational more homeowners and buyers will be denied loans.

With six schools and more preschools less than four wind miles from the site of the strip mine, will children be denied outdoor sports activities because of unhealthy air? Within 10 wind miles of the site there are at least nine more schools. Coal dust is extremely harmful to the young and the elderly, as I know from experience.

I know, I have experienced that and as a result can no longer sing, my air capacity is limited. I have never smoked.

I ask you, would you raise your children downwind of a strip mine?

We hear about jobs. I know what a coal miner’s life is. There are a lot of songs and poems about the decent into hell. I know what happens to miners. I remember mom and dad discussing his working at the mine and how he would come home dirty, covered in coal, shaking and coughing from the coal dust. His picture hangs with the other miners in the gallery of miners displayed once a year at Alpine Inn.

Dad died too young, his lungs and heart just gave out. My children had their grandfather taken before they could know him.

Lets talk about climate change. Are we to be known as the folks of the far north who just don’t care? Are we that careless, that heartless, that selfish, that greedy?

Do we think we will profit? The only ones to get rich will be the shareholders and owners of the mines, and a few bars will see their tills richer.

And lastly, the salmon — our lifeblood, a gift of Eden. Are we going to destroy the king salmon spawning ground again?

I would hope we would be looking to the future of our children and grandchildren. Is that future only going to offer coal mining jobs? My parents’ generation wanted better for us. Are we heading backward? I would hope we would listen to our better angels. Can we do that?

We can just say no!

Suzanne Black McCausland is a resident of the Butte.