One hundred miles northwest of Philadelphia, deep in the anthracite coal region of Pennsylvania, lies the town of Centralia. Like many coal towns, it was a sleepy, close-knit rural PA village, with its maximum population coming in 1890 (2700+ residents), and experiencing the height of coal production in 1917 (when 100 million tons were produced across the USA). Things would change for residents forever in 1962, when something horrible happened, as covered in Fire Underground, by reporter David DeKok.
In May 1962, a typical (though illegal) landfill fire was deliberately started in Centralia to burn off excess combustible material, reduce foul odor, and clear the area of rodents. The fire department was aware of it and put it out as scheduled; such fires were common. What happened next was not. Unbeknownst to them all, part of the landfill fire got into one of the many abandoned mine shafts dotting the town, starting a mine fire.
Underground mine fires were common in coal regions, and most were dealt with appropriately. This one was not. Several projects were initiated to stop it- they were either unsuccessful or half-way measures not intended to fully eradicate the blaze (mine fires can be extremely difficult to extinguish- sometimes only containment is viable). Residents paid little attention to the fire at first- mine fires move notoriously slowly (this one would progress 75 feet per year). But in 1969, three homes had to be permanently evacuated because fire byproducts- decrease in oxygen levels, carbon monoxide, and other lethal gases- were found in several residential basements. The fire had progressed under the town, and seams in rock strata allowed the gases to make their way to the surface. By that point, they realized something more had to be done. What followed was decades of bureaucratic government (federal and state) foot-dragging and finger-pointing that would ultimately doom the town.
In 1981, a subsidence opened (a ground-level hole or depression caused by the collapse of mine tunnels deep underground), swallowing a young boy (who was, thankfully, pulled out by his nearby cousin). Months later, another resident collapsed, overcome from gases in his home seeping up through the ground. The fire broke out several times on the surface, visible at night and destroying plants by burning (or heating) their roots. Residents were in a panic; government officials continued denying the problem, downplaying its severity, or pointing at other institutions to deal with the issue. Finally, in 1983, US Congress approved $42 million to relocate residents, the cost of this being much cheaper than the cost of stopping the fire (which, at that point, would require complete excavation to put out). In 1984, the relocation of residents started in earnest; by 1986, fewer than 50 homes remained. Centralia was gone.
How quickly things can change. In 1980, Centralia had 1,017 citizens. In 1990, they had 63, which went down to 21 in 2000, and now stands at 10 (as of 2010). The fire still burns- expected to impact nearby Mt. Carmel in decades (or centuries). Steam can still be seen at times, and you can visit the abandoned part of highway US-61, where the road was split open by the blaze- the highway would be reconstructed to the east.
Fire Underground is a good story, but DeKok doesn't tell it particularly well. As a reporter, you can tell he was focused on the details of "who said what when" as the crisis was unfolding. It makes for good reference material, but jilts the flow of the tale. He covered the story for over 20 years, so he is clearly informed, but I couldn't help thinking that historian and author David McCullough would have done an amazing job with this. DeKok's account is citizen-centered, so the government comes across as the bad guy- probably correct, but perhaps distorted; the townsfolk themselves were of widely varying opinions on what needed to be done, and some also denied there was an issue. In the end, this is a good cautionary tale, and it piqued my interest; I hope to visit Centralia some day.
Rating: B+
