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Sam Rasoul, a Palestinian-American State Legislator in Virginia, campaigns on affordability amid false charges of anti-Semitism.
In 2019, I visited my ancestral home in a small town in northwestern Germany named Prussian Oldendorf. Through genealogical research, I had learned that my Jewish ancestors—I am 100% Ashkenazi Jew genetically, as well as a proud Jew by upbringing and choice—had lived there for centuries, until my great-great-grandmother, Rosalie Cahen, a single mother with six children, fled persecution by the German authorities and immigrated to America in 1859.
I had read that there was a Jewish cemetery just outside of town that had been made intentionally hard to find because neo-Nazis had desecrated it in the 1980s. I found the cemetery and saw that many of the gravestones were my direct ancestors with the last name of Cahen, my mother’s maiden name. I also found the gravesite for Philipp Cahen, Rosalie’s husband and my great-great-grandfather.
Additionally, with the help of an old college friend from Germany who lives close to Prussian Oldendorf and who did much of the research necessary to make my visit possible, I found the retired pastor of the town’s 500-year-old Lutheran church who had restored the Jewish cemetery after its desecration. The pastor, who had protected and maintained the cemetery for decades, had come to Prussian Oldendorf at the end of World War II, having fled the Red Army as it rolled west as part of the destruction of the Third Reich. The pastor told me he had spoken out—to the great dismay of many of his parishioners—about how the townsfolk had remained silent during the Holocaust as their Jewish neighbors were disappeared.
According to the pastor, every single Jew in that town—save for one—was sent to the extermination camps and murdered by the Nazis.
As I was getting ready to leave Prussian Oldendorf, I walked past the Lutheran church, and something caught my eye on the ground.
There were small square stones, which I later learned were known across Europe as Stolpersteine or stumbling stones, embedded in the cobblestone courtyard surrounding the church. Inscribed upon the stumbling stones were the names of the townsfolk who were sent to the camps, when they had died, and the names of the camps.
Treblinka
Terezin
Sobibor
Auschwitz
Many of those stumbling stones bore our family name, Cahen.
Seeing these stones, I crumbled to the ground and cried, right there outside the church. When I was finally able to compose myself, I did two things. First, I quietly cursed the monsters who committed these atrocities: “You bastards.”
And then I thanked my great-great-grandmother Rosalie for having had the courage to leave some 80 years before the Holocaust because, if she had stayed, her descendants surely would have been exterminated. Suddenly, the old saying, “There but for the grace of God go I,” had a special and very tangible resonance.
Which brings me to Sam Rasoul, a proud Palestinian-American state legislator who has represented southwestern Virginia and Roanoke City in the Virginia General Assembly since 2014. Like Zohran Mamdani, a fellow Muslim state legislator who is campaigning on a platform of affordability for working people and who is poised to become the next Mayor of New York City, Rasoul leans into speaking out against injustices, including in Palestine. However, he does so not because he is Muslim nor because of his Palestinian heritage—he speaks out because he believes in intersectional justice for all, as evidenced by his work for the communities he represents.
As Rasoul puts it:
In my 11 years in the General Assembly, I have worked to lower healthcare costs, pushed for intersectional justice through a Green New Deal, advanced the socioemotional health of our children, fought to raise teacher pay to the national average, and advocated for good government in limiting the influence of special interests in our government.
I have worked closely with Delegate Rasoul for almost 10 years in environmental justice fights in Virginia that he has helped to foster and lead, most particularly the fight to save the historic African American community of Union Hill in Buckingham County. Union Hill was under assault by Dominion Energy, the state’s monopoly utility company, which wanted to build a massive pipeline compressor station there as part of the now-cancelled Atlantic Coast Pipeline. That fight was won through a relentless coalition-building campaign that brought together diverse communities from across the Commonwealth, and with the help of national civil rights organizations.
Delegate Rasoul was at the forefront of what would become the winning fight to save Union Hill, and he helped bring along most of his Democratic colleagues to join that fight. During that campaign, I watched as, at first, Rasoul worked quietly behind the scenes to garner support from his colleagues in the House for Union Hill, and then as he galvanized national support for the fight, travelling out of state to meet with Karenna Gore, a prominent environmental justice advocate and the daughter of former Vice President Al Gore, also an environmental champion. Rasoul’s work complemented the work of many others, particularly those who lived in the frontline community of Union Hill, and their efforts culminated in a large rally in Buckingham County featuring former Vice President Gore and civil rights leader Rev. William Barber II.
I came to know Delegate Sam Rasoul—his given name, Salam Rasoul, means “peace messenger”—as a kind and decent family man and a relentlessly positive and inclusive politician.
Rasoul is now running for reelection, and he has been attacked by his Republican-turned-“independent” opponent as “consumed with hate,” a laughably false smear, as anyone who has actually met or knows Rasoul can attest. Some in his own party have even chimed in, citing his outspoken denunciation of what Israel has done to Gaza for the past three years.
So let me say this as directly as I can—as a proud Jew who was not only brought up in a Zionist household, but whose relatives were exterminated in one of the greatest genocides in human history.
Let me say this as someone who understands the lessons of my own family heritage, that “never again” means never again—for anyone.
Israel has committed, and continues to commit, unspeakable war crimes against innocent civilians, mostly women and children—in Gaza.
Israel has committed, and continues to commit, genocide in Gaza, and is now moving to the West Bank.
As with the Holocaust, the years that follow will show who was on the right side of history, who spoke out, and who remained silent. I believe I am on the right side of history, and many proud Jews like me are not only on the right side of history but are helping to lead the worldwide movement to stop the genocide.
Delegate Rasoul is also on the right side of history.
But Rasoul is not running for reelection in Appalachia because Israel is committing genocide in Gaza.
Rasoul is running so he can continue to do what he has always done: fight injustice, and deliver for the people he represents in Roanoke—on pocketbook issues, affordability, healthcare, education, utility bills, environmental justice, and more.
If Rasoul prevails on November 4, it will represent a defeat for the politics of cynicism and demonization and a victory for the politics of inclusivity and lifting up communities.
It will send a message from Appalachia and beautiful Southwest Virginia all the way to New York and Washington, DC and around the world, that denouncing a genocide is a moral imperative, born of generations of tragedy, for all communities.
Most importantly, if Rasoul wins, it will prove that “never again” truly means never again for anyone, and that we should not only tolerate, but encourage, politicians denouncing injustice while simultaneously fighting for the basic needs of the communities they represent.
In the aftermath of Helene, we are now all grappling with the realities of a climate that have made such extreme weather events increasingly common.
In the heart of the Southern Appalachian Mountains, the impending arrival of Hurricane Helene transforms the serene landscape of Asheville and Marshall, North Carolina into a battleground against nature's fury. As heavy rains pour down, rivers swell to dangerous levels, the catastrophic winds from Helene down power lines and crash into houses, residents brace for the worst.
In the aftermath, we are now all grappling with the realities of a climate that have made such extreme weather events increasingly common. This personal account delves into the chaos and uncertainty brought by Helene, offering reflections on resilience, community service, and human connection in a region caught in the throes of a climate disaster.
Wednesday, September 25
Heavy rain begins to fall in the Asheville/Marshall area of North Carolina, where I have lived for 17 years. A cold front, slowed by the high mountains, has brought a flood of precipitation ahead of Hurricane Helene's arrival.
The city of Asheville, situated along the French Broad River, is known for its many yoga studios, artists, and exotic restaurants. Tiny Marshall (population 796), also located along the river, is known for its organic farms, Appalachian music, and the Civil War massacre in Shelton Laurel in 1863.
I imagine a grotesque sight: The Swannanoa River flooding through the windows of Andaaz, my favorite Indian restaurant. The water is a mixed soup of mud, plastic bottles, and pieces of wood.
I stock up on extra candles, a new flashlight, oil for the old-fashioned oil lamps, extra dry food, and fill up about 100 liters of drinking water in anticipation of life without electricity. At midnight, Asheville Airport reports over four inches (10 centimeters) of rain. I imagine that creeks and rivers have already reached record-high flood levels and sleep only a few hours at a time. We had flooding on an island in the middle of the river in 2021, but I know it has never rained so much in such a short time before. I anticipate the worst.
Thursday, September 26
Climate hurricane Helene rages up the mountains from the unusually warm waters off the Florida coast. Precipitation and winds intensify. The neighboring county of Yancey experiences over 8.5 inches (22 cm) of rainfall in just over a day. The rivers, especially the French Broad River, swell dangerously with water from rushing creeks and smaller rivers.
I talk on the phone with my 89-year-old mother in Norway. But suddenly we lose contact. A few minutes later, I go out on the porch and see that a large pine tree has fallen over the power lines. Without electricity, there's no Wi-fi and no water from the well for drinking, cooking, showering, or flushing the toilet.
In the evening, after not being able to call or write to my wife on a study trip in India, I read the classic travel book To a Mountain in Tibet by Colin Thubron by the light of two candles. As I go to sleep, I worry about my mother worrying about me.
Friday, September 27
Helene crashes through the forest around the house with heavy rainfall and strong winds. In the afternoon, I nervously drive down to the French Broad River and see rooftops, car parts, and plastic pipes violently streaming by.
A few days later, I read that Asheville Regional Airport lost communication after recording 13.8 inches (35 cm) of rain in less than 72 hours. That resulted in major flooding in the lowest parts of Asheville and many surrounding villages.
I imagine a grotesque sight: The Swannanoa River flooding through the windows of Andaaz, my favorite Indian restaurant. The water is a mixed soup of mud, plastic bottles, and pieces of wood. I envision Marshall completely underwater, the frozen food section in Madison Natural Foods store submerged in chocolate-colored water and industrial sludge.
I wake up after only an hour's sleep and listen to the strong wind and heavy rain drumming on the roof. I sleep restlessly for the rest of the night. Branches occasionally falling onto the roof. What if one of the large oak trees outside will come smashing through the bedroom ceiling?
Saturday, September 28
In the morning, the wind has calmed down somewhat. I make a primitive oven from flat stones and cook breakfast with pancakes and a compote of berries over the fire. The floodwater in the French Broad River has begun to recede, and the extent of the destruction becomes clearer.
From a friend, I hear that the muddy water reached the roofs of many buildings in downtown Marshall. Some wooden houses were smashed to pieces by the strong currents. I drive around the neighborhood and see that several metal structures from an asphalt company have been swept into the river along with a wooden house. Further downstream, a whole row of houses and trailers have been crushed or swept away by the violent river. Some people chose not to evacuate and disappeared downstream along with their houses. One woman was later found in the neighboring state of Tennessee.
In the afternoon, electricity and running water return to Prama Institute, the retreat center where I work, but not to my home or my neighbors'. (It would take nearly two weeks before power was restored.) Our neighborhood of about 30 adults and children gathers for a warm lunch, the first in several days. I can finally check email and occasionally make phone calls. I receive an email from my Norwegian friend Trond Øverland: "You must be experiencing both tragedy and great solidarity in your area right now."
"Good summary of the situation," I write back.
Sunday, September 29
The radio reports that the death toll has risen to 30, but 600 are still missing. A neighbor tells me that our friend Tom has lost his house in Chimney Rock, a place known from scenes in the movie The Last of the Mohicans with Daniel Day-Lewis. Like many of the other houses, it was swept into Lake Lure.
Over 70 roads are destroyed, and Asheville is only accessible by car from South Carolina. The damage to houses and roads is, according to a politician, "post-apocalyptic." Thousands of anxious, hungry, and thirsty people are without electricity, water, and mobile coverage. On the radio, I hear that tap water may not be available for several weeks, perhaps months in some areas.
Rich or poor, we are all fast becoming climate victims.
I take my first shower in several days, and I feel the guilty pleasure of privilege. As tragic as it is everywhere around us, we are among the lucky ones. We, up here in the now quiet, sunny forest.
Monday, September 30
Governor Roy Cooper inspects the damage from the air and on the ground, calling it "unlike anything ever seen in western North Carolina." The government organization FEMA begins registering residents for assistance as the long rebuilding process starts.
Anthony, a friend from Shelton Laurel, stops by with his truck. Despite a large oak crushing the kitchen in his new house, and his parents' home in the mountain town of Hot Springs now floating down the French Broad River, he is willing to help. He knows of a place in Tennessee where we can buy food and gas.
Later that day, I try my luck locally. But the lines are long at Ingles supermarket, and you need cash. With no open banks, I drive home disappointed. In the afternoon, some neighbors go to Marshall with shovels and rubber boots. They shovel half-meter thick mud out of Madison Natural Foods store and Zadie's restaurant.
Tuesday, October 1
Anthony finally returns from Tennessee with his truck full of vegetables and fruit. We have plenty of rice and beans stored, so we start cooking and serving hot meals to people in need outside our neighborhood.
In the afternoon, I check the propane tank for the kitchen stove; it's only 35% full. With the amount of food we're now cooking, this will only last just under a week. Then we learn that Southern State Gas Company, where we get our propane from, is closed due to flood damage.
We are tired from all the cooking, serving, and the thick mud. We are filled with tragic and despondent feelings from all the destruction. We wonder if we can handle such physical and mental pressure for another day. But what else can we do? We must just keep on keeping on.
Wednesday, October 2
We cook hot food at the retreat center and serve 150 people in an apartment block in Asheville. They are mostly low-income retirees and partially disabled. They are victims of an unevenly distributed economic system and a failed healthcare system. Now they are also climate victims.
I read the following on CNN's website: "Asheville was touted as a climate haven, a place to escape the worst ravages of extreme weather. But Hurricane Helene's deadly path of destruction reveals this North Carolina city, like any in America, was never safe—it's just that memories are short, and the reach of the climate crisis is consistently underestimated."
Rich or poor, we are all fast becoming climate victims.
Thursday, October 3
I listen to a NASA climate scientist, prerecorded from a few days ago and speaking on his own behalf on the news program Democracy Now! He says that none of the news reports have mentioned the connection between Helene and climate change. Well, that's because they've been too busy reporting on the destruction and human suffering. And rightly so.
But today I read the following on Salon.com: "The destruction after Hurricane Helene in Asheville confirms that we cannot hide from climate change. The city in North Carolina was meant to be a climate refuge."
That's true. Since the mid-1990s, hippies, artists, environmentalists, organic farmers, musicians, and yogis have arrived in the area to find Shangri-La. I was one of them. Over the last 10 years, this liberal, progressive, and colorful cultural area was discovered by the more well-to-do from New York and California.
Now the area has become too expensive to live in for many. The restaurant, Airbnb, hotel, and tourism industry dominate the economy. Some talk about wanting to escape to another haven. But as we have painfully experienced in recent days, there are certain problems we cannot escape from. And certainly not from the effects of climate change.
Friday, October 4
Some last thoughts. You may still wonder why our area was so hard hit by what is termed Hurricane Helene. Because we were not just hit with Ms. Helene; we were hit by two weather systems. We had already had days with heavy rain before Helene hit us.
A "perfect storm" of circumstances led to this catastrophe. The ground was already waterlogged before Helene arrived. Thus, two storm systems stalled over the area, unleashing an extraordinary combination of hurricane winds and rain in a relatively small geographic region.
Then the mountainous terrain funneled this massive volume of water into the valleys below. This combination of preexisting saturation, extreme rainfall, challenging topography, and extreme winds toppling trees and power lines created the "ideal" conditions for this devastating disaster.
In this time of crisis, we discovered our capacity to rise together, transforming challenges into opportunities for connection and service.
But why were we not better prepared: You don't prepare for hurricanes in the mountains any more than you prepare for snowstorms in Miami. But that should not be an excuse for not preparing better, for not becoming less dependent on the electrical grid, for example.
During the climate change era—with severe droughts there and rainstorms over here—erratic and extreme weather patterns have become the new normal. According to climate scientists, never-before-seen weather patterns, or extreme ones experienced once every 100 years or so, may now take place every 10-20 years. Or even more frequently.
So, what can we do to combat climate change? Business as usual offers quick-fix solutions through schemes such as carbon capture. But there are no quick fixes. From a larger systems perspective, we need to rapidly move away from economies designed like extractive machines focused on maximum profit and production. Instead, we need economies emerging from and supporting the ecosystems of people, nature, and cultures.
We need political systems supporting regenerative and cooperative communities and regions. While recognizing that humans have basic needs to be met, we must align our economies with nature's processes to support dynamic balance and biodiversity.
In our own, small systems community, we have learned that we should have installed that solar well pump we talked about long ago. It would have saved us from going without water for over a week. It has now been ordered, and it will be installed soon.
We also need more solar generators in our homes to produce electricity for fridges and computers. While some of us already have whole-house solar power, we need to expand that capacity as well.
In this time of crisis, we discovered our capacity to rise together, transforming challenges into opportunities for connection and service. As the storms of the outside world intensified, we turned inward, nurturing our resilience through daily meditation and yoga. These practices became our anchors, helping us avoid the pitfalls of burnout and despair while serving the community at large.
Change on a systemic level requires a holistic approach, one that embraces transformation both large and small, collective and individual. It is about fostering well-being not just for small, exclusive groups, but for the entire community, weaving individual growth into the fabric of collective change and resilience.
Faced with a troubling report that reveals multiple pipe defects, Mountain Valley Pipeline spins and misrepresents.
Almost four months after high-pressure water testing blew a
gaping hole in an elbow pipe fitting section of the Mountain Valley Pipeline on Bent Mountain in Virginia, the pipeline operator filed a report with the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission on August 29 addressing the cause of the pipe failure.
The incident, which occurred on May 1, roughly six weeks before MVP went into operation, was first noted by local land owners, who observed sediment in a nearby stream, reported it to the Virginia Department of Environmental Quality (DEQ), and then photographed the burst pipe as it was hauled away a day later.
MVP sent the 43-page report to the Pipeline and Hazardous Materials Safety Administration (PHMSA) on August 28, a day before the report was filed with FERC. In June, PHMSA and MVP entered into a consent agreement to resolve a 2023 notice of proposed safety order, which had alleged that conditions existed along MVP’s route through West Virginia and Virginia that posed “an integrity risk to public safety, property, or the environment.”
This fight will continue until MVP is held accountable and this ruinous disaster is stopped before the unthinkable happens.
MVP’s report—and the company’s reaction to it—leave more questions unanswered than answered.
But one thing is clear: MVP tried to mislead PHMSA and FERC, as well as the press and the public at large, by including with the report filing a two-page cover letter that downplayed the incident and omitted crucial information contained in the report.
Also troubling—and unexplained—the report went through three drafts, dated July 23, August 1, and August 21. It was prepared by risk management firm DNV GL USA, which described MVP as its “customer.”
MVP provided DNV with a 12.5-foot section of pipe that contained the burst elbow fitting as well as two smaller sections (1.5 feet and one foot) from a “sister fitting” from the same test section.
MVP claimed in its cover letter that the sister elbow fitting was the only piece of pipe along the 303-mile long pipeline that had a “matching pedigree.” It gave no supporting evidence, nor did it even describe what it meant by “matching pedigree,” and DNV did not address the claim, much less verify it.
DNV did tensile tests on the blown pipe and “duplicate tensile tests” on the two samples from the sister fitting. The purpose of the analysis was “to determine the metallurgical cause of the failure and identify any contributing factors.”
DNV concluded that “the elbow fitting failed at the longitudinal seam weld as a result of ductile overload.” Ductile overload is “the failure mode that occurs when a material is simply loaded to beyond its ultimate tensile strength.” That seems simple enough. Indeed, it is almost self-evident. Obviously, the pipe burst because pressure was put on it that was beyond its capacity to bear. But that does not tell you why there was ductile overload.
DNV reported that “a majority of the failure was at or near the fusion boundary of the seam weld metal and base metal, indicating a lower tensile strength at or near the fusion boundary compared to the base metal and weld metal.”
That brings us to the second goal of the testing: to determine contributing factors. And that’s where the report gets very interesting—and very scary:
Contributing factors to the lower tensile strength at or near the fusion boundary was (sic) softening of the base metal mid-thickness... and possibly a yield strength lower than the requirement as the base metal yield strength of the sister elbow fitting did not meet the yield strength requirement.
Here, DNV is talking about two different defects in the pipe that burst, and a different defect in the sister pipe.
First, there was inadequate tensile strength , which is the maximum stress that can be applied before an object breaks, in the pipe that burst.
Second, there was possibly also inadequate yield strength, which refers to the maximum stress before an object’s shape permanently changes, in the pipe that burst. The evidence for this is that “the base metal yield strength of the sister elbow fitting”—which MVP admitted had a “matching pedigree”—“did not meet the yield strength requirement.”
Of note, the inadequate yield strength of the sister fitting was not in a welded seam, but rather in the base metal of the pipe itself.
Two pipes tested.
Two pipes defective.
Two different defects.
Taking things further, DNV concluded that “the tensile properties of the sister elbow fitting (base metal) do not meet the tensile requirements for MSS SP75 Grade WPHY70 steel at the time of construction as the yield strength is lower than the required value of 70 ksi; the values are also lower than the MTR value of 70.9 ksi.”
As DNV noted, MSS SP-75 requires a minimum yield strength of 70 kilopounds per square inch (ksi). The two sister elbow samples had a yield strength of 63.5 and 66.8 ksi.
In plain English, the sister elbow would be expected to permanently deform at a level of stress below what was required by industry standards, and the elbow that burst would be expected to break at a level of stress below what is required by industry standards.
Presumably, it is not good for any section of MVP to be either susceptible to permanent alteration or, worse, a straight blow out, when subjected to high pressure. The tested pipes were subject to both. It is terrifying, when one considers that MVP carries explosive methane gas—which is pressurized at up to 1,480 psig—that people live well within the pipeline’s blast zone.
And it gets worse.
DNV reported that there was a separate problem altogether: The sister elbow pipe’s fracture appearance transition temperature (FATT) value, which is the temperature at which the steel’s fracture appearance goes from being mostly flexible to mostly brittle, was “higher (poorer) than typical when compared to 2018 vintage line pipe steel.” Simply put, this means that the sister elbow DNV tested was more susceptible to cracking as compared to other pipe steel made in the same time period.
Mountain Valley Pipeline’s cover letter did not mention any of these problems.
Instead, MVP simply said that its pipeline burst on May 1 “due to a manufacturer’s defective weld,” on one pipe elbow. MVP bragged that a sister fitting “was proactively removed… to provide material for a portion of the mechanical testing aspect of the failure analysis,” but conveniently omitted the fact that the second fitting suffered from multiple manufacturing defects. Incredibly, MVP then misleadingly stated that “a single failure,” when there actually were two defective pipes (out of only two tested), was “a negligible fitting failure rate.”
That’s not even accounting for the fact that this was not the only “failure” that MVP experienced during hydrostatic testing. On June 4, a “jumper pipe” burst, sending a geyser of water hundreds of feet into the nighttime sky and then into a stream that feeds into the Roanoke River. Local residents caught the incident on video. MVP has yet to provide a full explanation of exactly what occurred.
As to the May 1 pipe burst, MVP no doubt was betting that reporters would not dig through 43 pages of highly technical material and instead would rely on MVP’s two-page “summary.” And indeed, with one notable exception, virtually all media outlets did exactly that. Many simply reprinted a story circulated by The Associated Press, which parroted a separate blogpost from MVP that noted that the report found that “there was no evidence of external or internal corrosion.”
By highlighting that DNV found no evidence of corrosion, MVP was cleverly suggesting that widespread concern about corrosion of MVP’s pipes is unfounded. However, concerns about corrosion do not focus on pipes, like the ones at issue here, that were installed and buried in 2018. Rather, the danger of corrosion focuses on the fact that most of the pipeline was installed in 2023 and 2024 using pipes that had been baking in the sun for many years after construction was halted in 2018 and thereafter by federal courts and, in one brief instance, by the Virginia Department of Environmental Quality. In fact, according to federal court testimony from an MVP executive in 2018, the pipe needed to be installed within one year to avoid having the sun degrade its protective coating, which is designed to prevent corrosion.
All of this is very troubling. MVP has a long history of flouting the law, as evidenced by the fact that it has been fined millions of dollars and cited for hundreds of environmental violations as far back as 2018 and as recently as last month.
Now MVP wants those who live along the route and others concerned to accept their claim that the sister elbow fitting it gave to DNV for testing was the only pipe among the 2,500 fittings and thousands of other pipes along the route that had a “matching pedigree” with the pipe that burst, whatever that means, despite the fact that no one—not even DNV—has verified or even evaluated that claim.
MVP likewise does not want anyone to wonder why DNV produced three drafts of the report for its “customer,” MVP. Who knows what MVP asked to be added, deleted, or changed between July 23, when the first draft was completed, and August 21, when the final report was done? Nor is there any explanation as to why MVP waited until August 28 to provide the report to PHMSA.
In short, the people who live next to this polluting and dangerous nightmare, as well as the public at large, are left with many questions and very few answers. And regulatory agencies, whose job it is to protect the public, are simply asleep at the wheel.
As Russell Chisholm, co-director of the Protect Our Water, Heritage, Rights Coalition (POWHR), a local advocacy group, commented:
After four months of waiting, communities near the pipe rupture finally have details from MVP on what caused the pipe explosion during testing. The lab hired by MVP blames the rupture on weak steel and a defective weld. This is a pathetically predictable outcome; we know the MVP has used shoddy materials for their rushed construction job on this massive methane pipeline project. This is yet more evidence of the threat MVP poses to everyone along the route, and why the government never should have greenlit this corrupt project.
MVP continues to assault Appalachia. Week after week after week, MVP files environmental “compliance reports” that instead reveal environmental noncompliance, as sediment is deposited in once pristine and protected streams. This damage would be illegal but for the fact that Congress and the White House exempted this project from environmental laws by legislative fiat in June 2023. And just recently, MVP revealed that it is working to remedy an untold number of “slips,” a euphemism for landslides, that could rupture a pipeline that crosses 75 miles with slopes greater than 30%.
Being treated as a sacrifice zone, the people of Appalachia are left to protect themselves and each other.
It is the latest chapter in a centuries-old story.
But the people of Appalachia are strong—and they are not alone. This fight will continue until MVP is held accountable and this ruinous disaster is stopped before the unthinkable happens.
Because it is not just about tensile strength and hydrostatic testing.
It is about the people who live there. And the land they love.
And in the end, the people will win.
"The time to build more dirty and dangerous pipelines is over," said one environmental campaigner.
Environmental defenders on Tuesday ripped the company behind the Mountain Valley Pipeline for asking the federal government—on Earth Day—for permission to start sending methane gas through the 303-mile conduit despite a worsening climate emergency caused largely by burning fossil fuels.
Mountain Valley Pipeline LLC sent a letter Monday to Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) Acting Secretary Debbie-Anne Reese seeking final permission to begin operation on the MVP next month, even while acknowledging that much of the Virginia portion of the pipeline route remains unfinished and developers have yet to fully comply with safety requirements.
"In a manner typical of its ongoing disrespect for the environment, Mountain Valley Pipeline marked Earth Day by asking FERC for authorization to place its dangerous, unnecessary pipeline into service in late May," said Jessica Sims, the Virginia field coordinator for Appalachian Voices.
"MVP brazenly asks for this authorization while simultaneously notifying FERC that the company has completed less than two-thirds of the project to final restoration and with the mere promise that it will notify the commission when it fully complies with the requirements of a consent decree it entered into with the Pipeline and Hazardous Materials Safety Administration last fall," she continued.
"Requesting an in-service decision by May 23 leaves the company very little time to implement the safety measures required by its agreement with PHMSA," Sims added. "There is no rush, other than to satisfy MVP's capacity customers' contracts—a situation of the company's own making. We remain deeply concerned about the construction methods and the safety of communities along the route of MVP."
Russell Chisholm, co-director of the Protect Our Water, Heritage, Rights (POWHR) Coalition—which called MVP's request "reckless and impossible"—said in a statement that "we are watching our worst nightmare unfold in real-time: The reckless MVP is barreling towards completion."
"During construction, MVP has contaminated our water sources, destroyed our streams, and split the earth beneath our homes. Now they want to run methane gas through their degraded pipes and shoddy work," Chisholm added. "The MVP is a glaring human rights violation that is indicative of the widespread failures of our government to act on the climate crisis in service of the fossil fuel industry."
POWHR and activists representing frontline communities affected by the pipeline are set to take part in a May 8 demonstration outside project financier Bank of America's headquarters in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Appalachian Voices noted that MVP's request comes days before pipeline developer Equitrans Midstream is set to release its 2024 first-quarter earnings information on April 30.
MVP is set to traverse much of Virginia and West Virginia, with the Southgate extension running into North Carolina. Outgoing U.S. Sen. Joe Manchin (D-W.Va.) and other pipeline proponents fought to include expedited construction of the project in the debt ceiling deal negotiated between President Joe Biden and congressional Republicans last year.
On Monday, climate and environmental defenders also petitioned the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit, challenging FERC's approval of the MVP's planned Southgate extension, contending that the project is so different from original plans that the government's previous assent is now irrelevant.
"Federal, state, and local elected officials have spoken out against this unneeded proposal to ship more methane gas into North Carolina," said Sierra Club senior field organizer Caroline Hansley. "The time to build more dirty and dangerous pipelines is over. After MVP Southgate requested a time extension for a project that it no longer plans to construct, it should be sent back to the drawing board for this newly proposed project."
David Sligh, conservation director at Wild Virginia, said: "Approving the Southgate project is irresponsible. This project will pose the same kinds of threats of damage to the environment and the people along its path as we have seen caused by the Mountain Valley Pipeline during the last six years."
"FERC has again failed to protect the public interest, instead favoring a profit-making corporation," Sligh added.
Others renewed warnings about the dangers MVP poses to wildlife.
"The endangered bats, fish, mussels, and plants in this boondoggle's path of destruction deserve to be protected from killing and habitat destruction by a project that never received proper approvals in the first place," Center for Biological Diversity attorney Perrin de Jong said. "Our organization will continue fighting this terrible idea to the bitter end."
Congressional Democrats are digging into the maneuvers corporations like Diversified rely on to make millions while unplugged wells poison communities with dangerous levels of methane gas.
Investors were madly in love with Rusty Hutson of Diversified Energy—until Congress launched an investigation into how he’s making millions off 60,000 decaying oil and gas wells littered across Appalachia.
As Democratic leaders wrote in their letter to Mr. Hutson: “[d]eferring and underestimating environmental liabilities would provide Diversified Energy the appearance of profitability on paper, which would allow your company to payout hundreds of millions of dollars to creditors and shareholders over the next decade without ensuring adequate funds to cover those liabilities.”
At the time, Diversified’s stock values plummeted. Now, congressional Democrats are digging into the maneuvers corporations like Diversified rely on to make millions while unplugged wells poison communities with dangerous levels of methane gas. This moment may signal the long beginning of the end for Diversified’s problematic business practices. And it’s a crucial step in ultimately holding the fossil fuel industry accountable for cleaning up discarded oil and gas wells.
In the end, it may take a combination of state and federal regulators and elected leaders, working in partnership with everyday citizens, to stop Diversified and similar companies and disrupt this devastating fossil fuel playbook.
Credit the mammoth lobbying power of the oil and gas industry and their bottomless political contributions for making it technically legal for the industry to wipe its hands of 3.5 million orphaned and abandoned wells. And the tally of abandoned wells grows higher every day. Here’s how it works: Companies like Diversified acquire old wells that are no longer producing high levels of oil or gas. They push back the deadlines on cleaning up and capping those wells and their accountants “discount” those reduced costs and count the difference as income. In order to keep the shell game going and keep investors happy, Diversified buys more and more wells, and then wildly delays those cleanup dates too to cover up their liabilities. How far out? Try 2095. Industry experts say Diversified will have run out of cash long before then.
Ending this shell game would have far reaching impacts. Major fossil fuel corporations, including ExxonMobil and Chevron, benefit from having willing buyers for their low-producing, high-liability wells: it’s an essential chapter in their playbook to remove liability and evade billions in clean up costs for decades. And Diversified is not alone in enabling original well drillers to evade costly clean-up liabilities and prolong the time that wells sit uncapped. Companies like California Resources Corporation and K.P. Kauffman engage in this shell game, too.
Meanwhile, people across the Appalachian region are living near Diversified’s uncapped wells as they spew greenhouse gasses and other harmful chemicals. Over the next 20 years, forgotten wells in this part of the country, many of which are owned by Diversified, will emit nearly 100 million tons of greenhouse gasses—more than 21 million gasoline engine cars.
What makes these sites doubly dangerous is they also leak “volatile organic compounds” including benzene. Benzene is a proven carcinogen that dramatically increases the risk of cancer. It also can generate ground-level ozone, which causes severe asthma, heart, and respiratory diseases, all of which can lead to more early, preventable deaths of the families who live nearby.
State leaders are starting to take action to curb these practices. In California, Governor Gavin Newsom recently signed legislation that will increase oversight of well transfers. In Pennsylvania, Governor Josh Shapiro is demanding oil and gas companies clean up dangerous wells once they’ve finished production. In New Mexico, State Land Commissioner Stephanie Garcia Richard has pushed to ensure companies cleanup responsibly on their own dime.
Of course, the industry won’t give up billions in profits without a fight, so it’s imperative that leaders like Newsom, Shapiro, and Garcia Richard continue their efforts. And even more elected leaders and state regulators need to get into the game to protect taxpayers, landowners, and the public. In the end, it may take a combination of state and federal regulators and elected leaders, working in partnership with everyday citizens, to stop Diversified and similar companies and disrupt this devastating fossil fuel playbook.
But it’s clear that disruptions to these tactics are increasing and putting painful divots in Big Oil’s profits. Chevron’s fourth quarter Securities and Exchange Commission filing revealed a close to $4 billion loss of value because the company that bought its wells in the Gulf of Mexico filed for bankruptcy and because of tighter regulations in California that limit the transfer of wells. Federal law on offshore drilling clearly states that the previous owner can be held liable—and Chevron is now responsible for decommissioning those wells.
One thing’s for certain: Investors are no longer madly in love with Rusty Hutson and his deceptive practices.
I spoke with Troy Miller, executive producer of the Zero Hour, in his capacity as a member of the Executive Committee of the West Virginia Democratic Party. We discussed the party’s recent adoption of an updated version of FDR’s Economic Bill of Rights.
Could it revive their political fortunes? Here’s a clue, from something I wrote several years ago and never published. It concerns McDowell County, WV, the state’s poorest county, which I researched as Bernie Sander’s speechwriter for a speech he gave there in 2016.
Troy N. Miller: WV Democrats Adopt 21st c. Economic Bill of Rights!youtu.be
Coastal journalists view rural people as an alien species – that is, when they think of them at all. When they cover them they sound like amateur entomologists pondering the consciousness of bugs under glass. Snake-handling features prominently in their coverage, even though it’s only practiced in a tiny handful of mostly informal churches.
According to the media narrative, in 2016 the reptile-loving hillbillies of journalistic imagination embraced another cold-blooded creature: Donald Trump. A typical post-election photo essay on McDowell County was headlined, “This County Gives a Glimpse at the America That Voted Trump Into Office.”[1]
Step right up, city folks! See the strange creatures with whom you share a nation!
The county’s voting results fed the media’s perennial appetite for exoticizing rural people. And yet, despite coverage like “Why the poorest county in West Virginia has faith in Donald Trump,”[2] the picture wasn’t nearly as clear as their coverage would have it. For one thing, McDowell County’s population was 8.2 percent Black, which isn’t all that different from the national average of 12.4 percent. And yet, Black people rarely figured in their condescending, Beverly Hillbillies-themed narrative.
They got the politics wrong, too. Here’s how McDowell County voted in the 2016 primaries:
That’s right: the democratic socialist got more votes than Trump or Clinton by a factor of nearly two to one.
The general election results were as follows:
That’s a decisive victory -- for political alienation. The non-participation rate was much higher than that of the country as a whole. Only 34.7 percent of eligible voters voted in McDowell’s general election, versus 56.9 percent nationwide.
“Trump country”? Nationally, 27 percent of eligible voters cast their ballots for Donald Trump. In McDowell, that percentage was a slightly lower (if statistically insignificant) 26.45 percent.
Yes, Trump won decisively in McDowell among those who voted. But McDowell County isn’t “Trump country.” It’s “None of the Above” country.
And yet, despite the fact that Donald Trump only won the votes of about one in four voters, the county’s residents soon became the poster children for right-wing “deplorability.”
The media’s challenges didn’t begin in 2016. “Penetrating a closed, isolated society in Appalachia,” read a 2014 inside-the-news headline from the New York Times.[3] But “closed” and “isolated” from whom? Certainly not each other. A story in the Chattanooga (TN) Times Free Press emphasizes a local initiative built on community values:
“McDowell County needed to return to the message its churches preached, locals said. Maybe it was as simple as embracing the Golden Rule: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.”
The charitable side of McDowell County never seems to make the national press.
Trump screwed them afterwards, of course. Things kept getting worse: drug and alcohol deaths, suicides, rampaging addiction, and a shortage of jobs. The McDowell County Commission sued three drug companies for their role in the opioid epidemic, although few people thought anything would come of it. Nothing did — but at least they tried.
Why the poorest county in West Virginia has faith in Donald Trump | Anywhere but Washingtonyoutu.be
McDowell County, like the country overall, is divided. But the mainstream media prefers to see a one-dimensional caricature of the county and the state. It’s true that they don’t like elitists, which is how a lot of Democrats come across to them. But they apparently like somebody who stands up to powerful interests and doesn’t talk down to them.
Anything seems like Hail Mary for West Virginia’s Democrats right now, but the Economic Bill of Rights it’s clear, easy to explain, and is opposed by the kinds of people who are despised by everyone from left to right: billionaires and corporations.
It’s definitely worth a shot, and the results will be worth watching.
The most common sentiment in each of the 23 comments at a recent public hearing was that a new proposed rule is a necessary first step, but MSHA must continue to strengthen its provisions to truly help the miners who need it most.
At 9:00 am sharp on August 10, a small phalanx of smiling, well-coiffed elderly women began herding a crowd of several dozen people into the auditorium of the National Mine Health and Safety Academy in Beckley, West Virginia. Among the crowd were former coal miners and their spouses, lawyers, pulmonologists, black lung clinic staff, environmental activists, local media, union representatives, and concerned citizens—all there to attend a public hearing for
a new proposed rule from the Mine Safety and Health Administration, or MSHA, that seeks to limit silica exposure in the nation’s coal mines to 50 micrograms per cubic meter, down from 100.
I was there too, both to document the proceedings and offer my own brief testimony. I have been following this rule’s progression since I began reporting on the black lung epidemic last year, and was thrilled to see it finally enter the public comment portion. As I found in my
recent investigation for In These Times, black lung now afflicts more than 1 in 8 coal miners in Kentucky and West Virginia who have been working underground for 20-24 years, up from one in 30 a decade ago. Younger miners—those who have spent only 15-19 years underground—are becoming sicker with pulmonary massive fibrosis, the most severe form of the disease. As I wrote then, workers in their 30s and 40s are now making their way to the same black lung clinics that served their parents and grandparents, and fighting the same battles against red tape and corporate malfeasance to win black lung benefits. And it is all completely preventable.
The hearing in Beckley was chaired by Patricia Silvey, deputy assistant secretary for operations at MSHA, and stretched for nearly four hours of comments, testimonies, personal stories, questions, and occasional pushback from the agency.
“She’ll say, ‘Nana, I wish Papaw didn’t have black lung, because he can’t get out and play with me, he can’t run with me.’”
It was the second such hearing to be held—and almost didn’t happen at all. The first hearing had taken place a week earlier, on August 3, in Arlington, Virginia, and another is being held on August 21, in
Denver, Colorado. Both those locations make logistical sense: MSHA operates a training center near Denver, and the Arlington location is both right outside Washington, D.C., and also near the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA) headquarters in nearby Triangle, Virginia. But without the addition of Beckley, the Central Appalachia communities most affected by the proposed rule—and hit the hardest by the black lung epidemic that is currently ravaging the region’s coal miners as a result of overexposure to respirable crystalline silica—would have struggled to make their voices heard during the crucial public comment period.
Beckley was hastily added to the schedule after local advocacy groups like Appalachian Voices called on MSHA to include a hearing in the region. “Many impacted workers and families are struggling financially because their family members are no longer able to work due to black lung disease, and traveling such a long distance is simply not a financial possibility,” Appalachian Voices explained in a July 10 letter to MSHA. “Other impacted workers are not physically well enough to make the roundtrip so far away.”
As it stood, many of the attendees at the August 10 hearing still had to go the extra mile to make it out. Vonda Robinson, vice president of the National Black Lung Association, and her husband John, a former miner now struggling with advanced black lung disease, drove three hours from their home near the Tennessee border. Both spoke in favor of strengthening the proposed rule to ensure that mine operators can’t cut corners with miners’ safety. Her voice strong with emotion, Vonda Robinson told the hearing room how much the disease has damaged her 57-year-old husband’s quality of life, and how badly it pains her to see younger men still being stricken with it today.
Even her five-year-old granddaughter knows that something is wrong—and has already learned how to operate her grandfather John’s oxygen tank. “She’ll say, ‘Nana, I wish Papaw didn’t have black lung, because he can’t get out and play with me, he can’t run with me,’” Robinson said. “I don’t like to see the toll that it has on the men’s lives. Now we’re looking at guys only 32 and 34 years old, getting complicated black lung, and that tells you that there’s something wrong—the coal companies are not doing what they’re saying they’re doing.”
Another retired West Virginia coal miner, Terry Lilly, had a difficult time even walking to the microphone to share his testimony. He began with an apology. “Excuse me, I have trouble breathing,” he wheezed, pausing every few words. “I’m at 40% of my lung capacity.” Lilly soldiered on, adding a grim warning. “It’s too late for me… but I’d like these young people to realize they need to wake up. One of these days you’ll be like me—you can’t walk across the parking lot.”
Petsonk outlined three major issues with the rule as it stands: that it requires no routine sampling of silica dust in mines; that it imposes no specific penalties for mines that violate silica dust limits; and that it offers no immediate protections for miners who are overexposed.
Lilly was one of several former miners who testified during the hearing; most of them already had advanced black lung, and were horrified by the knowledge that an entire new generation is facing this old evil. They were joined by advocates like attorney Sam Petsonk, a local labor and employment lawyer who has represented thousands of miners in black lung cases. In delivering the first comment of the day, Petsonk wasted no time explaining exactly why the rule is so necessary—the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health (NIOSH) called for limits on exposure to silica dust back in 1974, but MSHA has failed to meaningfully address the issue until now—as well as the myriad ways the proposal still falls short.
Armed with a laptop and sheaf of notes, Petsonk outlined three major issues with the rule as it stands: that it requires no routine sampling of silica dust in mines; that it imposes no specific penalties for mines that violate silica dust limits; and that it offers no immediate protections for miners who are overexposed.
“A rule with no penalties is no rule at all,” Petsonk said. “The only thing that mining companies understand is money. They don’t understand or appreciate the blood and the lives of miners, because if they did, they would have protected miners willingly over the last several decades.” (Silvey, the MSHA official overseeing the hearing, responded that the rule sets a bar for operators to meet, but “does not deal with penalties.”)
Most of the other speakers agreed that the proposed rule clearly needs work. A number of miners who testified zeroed in on the rule’s overreliance on using respirators as a corrective measure in mines that are found to be noncompliant with the 50 micrograms standard. As Willie Dodson, a field coordinator for Appalachian Voices, emphasized in his testimony, it’s impractical to expect workers to strap a bulky, tight-fitting apparatus to their face for 12 hours at a time and keep it on while doing hard labor in a dark, tight space, all while needing to be able to communicate with their coworkers. (The fact that many miners wear beards, which makes it harder to maintain a good seal on protective facial coverings, underscores how flawed this solution is.)
Dr. Leonard Go, a pulmonologist at the University of Illinois and medical director for the National Coalition of Black Lung and Respiratory Disease Clinics, called respirators “an ineffective and impractical solution when dust levels are high,” comparing them to a Band-Aid that provides a false sense of security. “I as a physician cannot reasonably expect a miner to do physically harder work than I do with a tighter fitting mask than what I wear in a hospital,” Go testified.
Most speakers also shared a profound lack of trust in mine operators’ ability and willingness to perform accurate dust sampling, and were distressed that the proposed rule would allow them to self-report the silica levels they find in their mines. “I’ve got 30 years of coal mining and I know the tricks and how [mine bosses] operate,” Terry Lilly had explained. “We just need to put a stop to it, and we can save some lives.”
“I represent miners in their 30s, and 40s, and in their early 50s, who have severe progressive, massive fibrosis and silicosis, who have lost over a quarter of their lung to rock dust.”
“I look at these young miners, and their faces are black when they come home,” said William “Bolts” Willis, another retired miner. “Do I have to sample to know that they’re getting black lung? Their eyebrows are white from silica dust. We know what’s happening. Let’s do something about it—and it has to be drastic.”
“I represent miners in their 30s, and 40s, and in their early 50s, who have severe progressive, massive fibrosis and silicosis, who have lost over a quarter of their lung to rock dust,” Petsonk said. “Their lungs have turned to rock dust. They have Category B progressive massive fibrosis because of those exposures. We have a crisis. And the rule does not capture that.”
Beyond the proposed rule’s technical points, much of the testimony understandably crossed into emotional territory, but the hearing’s overall message was hopeful: People were glad to see the agency doing something to staunch the bleeding and address the public health crisis unfolding within the mines and in their living rooms.
“We old timers have already paid the price,” said John Robinson, wearing a “Black Lung Kills” T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. “We’re going to die from this preventable disease. But we have got to take care of our younger guys.” His baby brother, he said, works in the mines now, and Robinson does not want him to suffer the same fate. “Until we have a rule in place that protects our miners, keeps them employed, and eliminates fear and retaliation from these operators, it won’t be enough.”
While every speaker who commented in person or via Zoom ultimately supported the rule, not a single mine operator or company representative said a word. They were there, sitting in clusters of suits with faces like thunder. They’d heard the testimony of the workers who’d made their companies rich and were now dying as a result, seen the tears glisten in old miners’ eyes as they struggled to speak, but they didn’t utter a sound. They had already made their views clear, though. When the public comment period initially opened in July, a flurry of nearly identical comments from mine operators and industry groups, including the National Mining Association, popped up on MSHA’s website, all suggesting the rule goes too far and urging the agency to prolong the comment period—and thereby delay the rule’s implementation. (MSHA announced at the Beckley hearing that they are extending the comment window, but only by 15 days; it will now end at midnight on September 11.)
While none of them apparently saw fit to attend the hearing in Central Appalachia, half a dozen mining and construction industry representatives had trooped into the first MSHA hearing in Arlington earlier this month, with representatives from the American Road and Transportation Builders Association, the National Mining Association, the Portland Cement Association, Heidelberg Materials, the National Stone, Sand & Gravel Association, and others testifying, overwhelmingly in opposition to the rule. While coal miners suffering from black lung believe the rule can’t come soon enough, mining executives seemed horrified at how “quickly” the proposal has wound its way through the agency.
“History shows that when you leave an opportunity for loopholes or the gaming of the system, some people will take advantage of that. And that’s why miners are getting sick.”
“The first time the idea of a silica rule appeared in the MSHA regulatory agenda was over 20 years ago, and MSHA wants to provide industry 45 days to comment and six months to comply,” said lawyer and former coal company executive Michael Peelish at the August 3 hearing. (Ironically, by pointing out how long it has taken to get to this point, Peelish undercut his own complaint about the current process’s relative speed.) “This does not work in your favor, and the courts will explain that to you if you don’t figure it out.”
But at the same hearing, Dr. Drew Harris, the medical director of Virginia’s Black Lung Program at Stone Mountain Health Services, the largest dedicated treatment facility in the country, urged MSHA to go full speed ahead. “I’ve heard from many people today that are calling for more time to prepare for implementation of this rule,” Harris testified. “And from my perspective, the longer we delay, the more patients will be inadequately protected, which will lead to more diagnoses of severe black lung and more premature and unnecessary deaths, and so I would urge MSHA to strongly consider moving forward in the proposed timeline and as quickly as possible.”
In Beckley, the final few speakers similarly urged MSHA to act fast, to do it right, and to make sure that the rule is as strong and effective as possible. “As you’re developing the final rule, I’d ask that you look at each piece and ask: does this section open the door for cheating, or gaming the system?” said Josh Roberts, Director of Occupational Health and Safety at the UMWA. “And if the answer is yes, then there’s a lot more work [that] needs to be done. History shows that when you leave an opportunity for loopholes or the gaming of the system, some people will take advantage of that. And that’s why miners are getting sick. It’s not because everybody’s following the rules and doing what they’re supposed to be doing and following their ventilation plans and following the law. It’s because they’re not.”
As the speakers trickled out of the Beckley auditorium in the early afternoon, said their goodbyes, and prepared for the long drive home, Vonda Robinson’s words about her little granddaughter echoed in my head. “She’ll say, ‘Nana, I don’t like that black lung,’” Robinson had recounted. “I said, ‘I don’t either, honey.’”
It had been a hard day. The miners’ stories about losing the chance to run and play with their grandkids reminded me of how it felt when I lost my own granddad to a brutal occupational lung disease. It also made me think of all the other children who will have to watch their own fathers, siblings, and grandfathers die breathless thanks to this horrible disease, which continues to claim younger and younger victims. As the speakers that day made clear, so much is riding on this proposed rule, and the stronger versions that will hopefully follow. If MSHA does this right, entire generations of Appalachians may have a chance to grow up and grow old, to celebrate the coal dust that miners proudly say “runs in their veins”—but to also breathe easy, with no rock dust in their lungs.
Don Blankenship, the former CEO of coal giant Massey Energy, faces up to 31 years in prison after a federal grand jury indicted him Thursday on four criminal charges related to the worst coal mine disaster in decades.
Twenty-nine workers were killed in an explosion at the non-union Upper Big Branch (UBB) Mine near Montcoal, West Virginia in April 2010.
A 2011 investigation by the federal Mine Safety and Health Administration found the disaster was "the result of a series basic safety violations [...] and were entirely preventable." It continues:
The tragedy at UBB began with a methane ignition that transitioned into a small methane explosion that then set off a massive coal dust explosion. If basic safety measures had been in place that prevented any of these three events, there would have been no loss of life at UBB.
The Justice Department stated Thursday: "The indictment charges Blankenship with conspiracy to violate mandatory federal mine safety and health standards, conspiracy to impede federal mine safety officials, making false statements to the United States Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), and securities fraud."
From January 1, 2008, through about April 9, 2010, the Justice Department continues, the then-CEO "conspired to commit and cause routine, willful violations of mandatory federal mine safety and health standards" at the mine, and also conspired to cover up safety violations from federal inspectors.
After the deadly 2010 explosion, the Justice Department continues, Blankenship gave false statements and made misleading omissions to the SEC.
"Blankenship knew that [Upper Big Branch] was committing hundreds of safety-law violations every year and that he had the ability to prevent most of the violations," the Washington Post quotes the indictment as reading. "Yet he fostered and participated in an understanding that perpetuated UBB's practice of routine safety violations, in order to produce more coal, avoid the costs of following safety laws, and make more money."
"The carnage that was a recurring nightmare at Massey mines during Blankenship's tenure at the head of that company was unmatched."
--Cecil E. Roberts, United Mine Workers of AmericaIn the wake of the disaster, Amy Goodman described Blankenship a "poster boy for malevolent big business trampling on communities, the environment and workers' rights."
United Mine Workers of America International President Cecil E. Roberts issued a statement commending the "strong message" the indictment sends and blasting Blankenship's disregard for safety.
"The carnage that was a recurring nightmare at Massey mines during Blankenship's tenure at the head of that company was unmatched. No other company had even half as many fatalities during that time. No other company compared with Massey's record of health and safety violations during that time," Roberts stated.
When the April disaster occurred, Roberts continued, "all Americans learned what we in the coalfields already knew: For coal miners, working for Massey meant putting your life and your limbs at risk. Indeed, far too many suffered just that fate."
Gary Quarles, who lost his son in the explosion, told local ABC affiliate WCHS, "I will never be able to get over my son being killed--never."
Blankenship's attorney, William W. Taylor, III, said that his client "has been a tireless advocate for mine safety" and that the indictment was the result of his "outspoken criticism of powerful bureaucrats."
* * *
This video from 2010 originally produced for the Charleston Gazette by Douglas Imbrogno offers a memorial to the workers who died at the UBB disaster:
Memorial to miners killed in the 2010 Upper Big Branch Mine disaster in West VirginiaHere's a memorial slideshow to the 29 miners, ages 20 to 61, who died in the April 5, 2010, explosion at the Massey Energy ...
In a breathtaking but largely overlooked ruling this week, a federal judge agreed that the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers may disregard studies on the health impacts of mountaintop removal mining in its permitting process, only two weeks after Goldman Prize Award-winning activist Maria Gunnoe wrote an impassioned plea to President Barack Obama to renew withdrawn funding for US Geological Survey research on strip mining operations and redouble federal action to address the decades-old humanitarian disaster.
(Gunnoe's full letter is below.)
The prophetic call for immediate federal action by Gunnoe, a community organizer for the West Virginia-based Ohio Valley Environmental Coalition and a long-time witness to the tragedy of mountaintop removal, has never been so timely. "Appalachian citizens are the casualties of a silent "war on people" who live where coal is extracted," Gunnoe wrote the president. "Citizens of all ages are dying for the coal industry's bottom line." Gunnoe concluded:
We all must recognize and resolve these mountaintop-removal-caused health problems and end the onslaught of pollution on people. Ending mountaintop removal could be as simple as passing HR 526: the Appalachian Community Health Emergency Act, or possibly even an Executive Order. The ACHE Act will place a moratorium on all new mountaintop removal permits. This bill, when passed, will immediately improve the lives and health of the people who live with these impacts daily.
Two years ago, in fact, the USGS published preliminary findings on "unusually high" toxic compounds in the soil and water near strip mining operations. That USGS research team is no longer funded.
"Our state politicians display a willful ignorance of some 24 peer-reviewed scientific reports about mountaintop removal's human health effects," Gunnoe wrote. "Studies show a correlation between living near a mountaintop removal site and significantly increased rates of cancer, birth defects and premature deaths. We believe they'd have a much harder time ignoring studies put out by the USGS."
Besieged residents in strip mining areas of Illinois, including Rocky Branch, and Kentucky, where a similar ruling over ignored human health risks, have long called for federal enforcement and action of flawed mining regulations.
Last night in Charleston, West Virginia, the premiere screening of a new feature film, "Moving Mountains," based on the award-winning book by journalist Penny Loeb, was a reminder of the decades-long struggle by citizens for civil rights and health protection in coal mining communities in the courts and political corridors. Here's a trailer of the film, which stars actress Theresa Russell:
Moving Mountainswww.youtube.com
"Moving Mountains," tragically enough, dates back to 1994. In fact, August 3rd marked the 37th anniversary of the flawed Surface Mining Control and Reclamation Act, which granted federal sanctioning for mountaintop removal, which President Jimmy Carter called a "disappointing effort" and a "watered down bill."
"Very little has changed," Gunnoe said, referring to the film's true life heroine, Patricia Bragg, a coal miner's wife who defends her community from water contamination. "There are only more Patricia Braggs now."
Even while central Appalachia's coal industry falters to exploding markets in the Illinois Basin and western coalfields, permits for new mountaintop removal operations continue to be filed.
"Judge Copenhaver confirmed what we already know: there is no law in the United States that says a permitting agency must consider Mountaintop Removal's toxic effects on people's health," said Bob Kincaid, with the Appalachian Community Health Emergency Act Movement. "At present, as a matter of law, people in Appalachia simply do not matter at all. If we had the A.C.H.E. Act, these ill-considered rulings wouldn't happen. They couldn't happen. The A.C.H.E. Act's moratorium on new permits would stop them."
Gunnoe's letter to President Obama is below:
July 29, 2014
President Obama
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500
Dear President Obama,
My name is Maria Gunnoe. I live in Boone County, West Virginia, at the base of a mountaintop removal coal mining operation. My family has been here for generations, before the mine moved in above us.
Since the mine moved in, my family has experienced problems we trace directly back to that mine. (Details on some of that are below.) My outspokenness on what has happened to us, to my neighbors and to others living near these mines has led to my current employment as an organizer with the Huntington, W.Va.-based Ohio Valley Environmental Coalition (OVEC). It also led to my receiving the 2009 Goldman Prize for North America and the 2012 Wallenberg Medal. I am also an active member of the Appalachian Community Health Emergency campaign.
I write on behalf of OVEC, because something I read in the July 26 edition of the Charleston Gazette shocked me. An article titled, "USGS halts research on mountaintop removal's public-health effects," reports that, "Last year, the Obama administration quietly put the brakes on any new field work to gather data on the potential public-health threats posed by mountaintop removal." (https://www.wvgazette.com/article/20140726/GZ01/140729409/1419)
I write to ask you restore the funding for Dr. Bill Orem's team at USGS to gather data on the human health impacts of mountaintop removal coal mining. I believe any data gathered so far that is ready for publication should be released at once. In order to re-fund these studies, any USGS research on the health and environmental effects of unconventional oil and gas extraction should not be halted.
I think Dr. Orem's work will show that the practice of mountaintop removal coal mining is not good for anyone, including the men and women who work on mountaintop removal operations.
Our state politicians display a willful ignorance of some 24 peer-reviewed scientific reports (https://ohvec.org/issues/mountaintop_removal/articles/health/) about mountaintop removal's human health effects. Studies show a correlation between living near a mountaintop removal site and significantly increased rates of cancer, birth defects and premature deaths. We believe they'd have a much harder time ignoring studies put out by the USGS.
Living with the impacts of mountaintop removal daily, while others get the pleasure of pretending it is not really happening, takes fortitude. When you see community members dying because of toxic air, it is truly devastating to take your next breath. We have watched so many people living near mountaintop removal sites become sick. I think the USGS studies will give scientific support to what we know, to what we live.
OVEC volunteers and staff members have worked in the communities that are heavily affected by mountaintop removal pollution. We have members, staffers and friends living in toxic air because of the practice of blowing up mountains for coal. The communities that are most affected by mountaintop removal are those in which we live, work and recreate, and OVEC demands better for everyone. We work to improve lives in these communities with community leadership. The communities tell us what is important to them and, right now, they need an end to mountaintop removal coal mining. They need healthy air, healthy water and medical follow-up on the health problems caused by the pollution from mountaintop removal operations.
The toxic dust from mountaintop removal operations has invaded our homes and our bodies. It overcomes everything. Our state politicians ignore these facts, thus allowing people to become ill and even die prematurely!
In some cases, mountaintop removal is happening just hundreds of feet from occupied structures such as schools, churches and homes. It's taking place directly above parks in communities such as Twilight, Madison, Artie, Peach Tree, Blair, Marsh Fork, Ashford, Williams Mountain, Prenter, Kayford, Whitesville, Mud, Sylvester and so many more. Even historic family cemeteries are surrounded by exploding mountains.
OVEC has witnessed an overall demise in the mental and physical well-being of people living in these communities. We worry that this is the worst of the effects of mountaintop removal. What this practice is doing to people is inhumane and cruel; they are living in hell on earth in the communities where mountaintop removal is happening, and they are not being heard by the politicians and regulators who should be listening.
Again, we believe they'd have a much harder time not listening when it is the USGS telling us about the human health impacts of mountaintop removal coal mining.
We hope that our politicians see what a massive mistake they have made in fighting hard for more mountaintop removal coal mining. We all should recognize the risk to human lives and immediately end all mountaintop removal operations in order to protect human lives. This is the coal industry's and the politicians' chance to show that they truly do care about the people of Appalachia and not only the production of Appalachian coal.
Coal miners and their families deserve better living conditions in their homes and communities than they have on their job sites, but not even their children have safe air to breathe. It must be terrible to have to pollute your children's air for a paycheck. The enforcement of regulations protects lives on the job and the lives of people in our communities. The companies' rights to mine coal ends when it infringes on citizens' rights to live healthy lives in our homes.
There should never be another mention of the "war on coal" by our state leaders. The truth is that Appalachian citizens are the casualties of a silent "war on people" who live where coal is extracted. Citizens of all ages are dying for the coal industry's bottom line.
We all must recognize and resolve these mountaintop-removal-caused health problems and end the onslaught of pollution on people.
Ending mountaintop removal could be as simple as passing HR 526: the Appalachian Community Health Emergency ACT (https://acheact.org/the-legislation/), or possibly even an Executive Order. The ACHE Act will place a moratorium on all new mountaintop removal permits. This bill, when passed, will immediately improve the lives and health of the people who live with these impacts daily.
As you can tell, I want an end to mountaintop removal today. I'm tired of watching the people in our community get sick and die too early. I believe the science is already in showing this type of coal mining is dangerous and deadly. I believe that the passage of the ACHE Act would end mountaintop removal. But, still I ask that you restore the funding for Dr. Orem's team, because their findings would arm us with the scientific evidence we need to finally convince Congress and you that we are saying is indeed true.
The health of those of us here in central Appalachia does matter. Please restore the funding and help us end mountaintop removal!
With deepest respect and sincerity,
Maria Gunnoe
OVEC
P.O. Box 6753
Huntington, WV 25773
This week an important protest is taking place in the coalfields of West Virginia. The March on Blair Mountain began on Monday as several hundred people embarked on a five-day journey retracing the steps of over 10,000 miners who 90 years ago staged the largest armed insurrection after the American Civil War. Today's march is a protest against both the attack of the union movement in America and the demolition of the Appalachian mountains.
For over 50 years, American unions have served to counterbalance the ascendancy of unsheathed corporate power that threatens now to overwhelm American Democracy. In the past year, the union movement's final redoubt -- the public service unions -- have been vilified and emasculated in traditional union states like Wisconsin, Michigan, and Iowa.
Now one of the biggest union busters in American history, Massey Energy, is launching a final assault on the icon of America's union movement, Blair Mountain.
Blair Mountain's storied history dates back to West Virginia in the 1920s, when the entire state was a company town. Big Coal dominated every aspect of economic life. The industry owned the shops, the homes, of course the mines -- and made sure there was virtually no other source of employment in the state. Working conditions were horrendous: men and their sons worked 12 to 16 grueling hours in dark, dangerous mines dying from a notorious plague of subsurface explosions, cave-ins and black lung.
The companies used local sheriffs to enforce their system of feudal serfdom. When a miner was injured and his family needed to be evicted from their home, the sheriff did the dirty deed. When union organizers appeared, the sheriff arrested, jailed, and routinely beat them, before escorting them to the county line. One sheriff refused to tow the company line: Sid Hatfield, of Hatfield and McCoy lore.
Not only did Hatfield refuse to do the industry's bidding, but he jailed mine operators for mistreating their workers. In the infamous Matewan gun battle, Hatfield helped kill seven mine company private investigators who had evicted union families from their homes.
Hatfield was never convicted for the Matewan shootings, but the mine operators took their revenge and on August 1, 1921 when industry thugs executed Hatfield in broad daylight on the McDowell county court-house steps.
Hatfield's assassination triggered one of the biggest labor demonstrations in American history. Ten thousand miners from the coalfields of Kentucky and West Virginia marched for six days, converging on Blair Mountain to confront their industry bosses. They were met by King Coal's powerful army of thugs and mowed down by Gatling guns.
President Warren Harding, a so-called "friend of coal," like most of the leading politicians of the Gilded Age, authorized the U.S. army to drop bombs and poison gas on the marching miners -- the only time in American History when our military deliberately bombed U.S. citizens. These military measures broke the demonstration but outraged the public, and gave vital traction to the United Mine Workers and the American labor movement.
Over the next 60 years unions became the critical counterweight to corporate power and the principal platform for the growth of the American middle class, which gave our Democracy its wealth, prosperity, and sense of justice as a core value.
Now, as the union movement finds itself battered, beleaguered, and under assault by a legion of corporate toadies in state governor's office from every director to chamber of commerce. Tea Party, talk radio, Fox News and the tsunami of corporate money released by the Citizens United case, Massey Energy has recently announced that it intends to blow up Blair Mountain, the Gettysburg of America's union-based Democracy, to mine it for coal.
For the first time in decades, environmentalists including the NRDC, Sierra Club, Waterkeeper Alliance and local groups have declared common cause with unions in staging a six-day march to retrace the steps of the 1921 Blair Mountain miners. The march convenes Saturday morning June 11 with a final climb up Blair Mountain. Marchers hope to save this historic mountain from Massey by securing its status as a historic landmark.
West Virginia is today's epicenter of one of America's greatest civil disobedience movements. More than 200 people have been arrested protesting mountaintop removal coal mining in the past 18 months. The protesters include college students and local West Virginia marines, former miners, housewives, and an 82-year-old grandmother who was arrested in her wheelchair. They are all calling for an end to mountaintop removal, the extreme form of coal mining that has flattened 500 mountains in Appalachia, illegally buried 2,000 miles of streams, destroyed one million acres of forest, and devastated numerous communities, lives, and towns in the region.
Union busting corporations have commoditized not just the workforce, but the historic landscapes of West Virginia, using great machines and dynamite to eliminate mining jobs. While production has more than doubled in 10 years, industry employment is one-tenth of it what was when my father warned me about strip mining as a 14-year-old boy.
It is time for Americans to march in the footsteps of our union ancestors of 90 years ago to protect our jobs, and save our national patriarchy, the purple mountains majesty, the individual rights and community based values that make our country of the envy of free people.