West Virginia Elementary School

By Adam Daniel

MARSH CREEK ELEMENTARY, West Virginia -- Moving fervently through the backwoods and small towns of Appalachia, a grandfather walks with a mission. He’s striding towards our nation’s capital with a story to tell, one full of tragedy and tears, and his blisters and sweat are proof of his undying will and passion to spread the word about one of America’s dirtiest little secrets. Embarking on a 455-mile pilgrimage to share this story is a man named Ed Wiley who lives in the southern coalfields of West Virginia, upstream from an elementary school different from most.

Ed Wiley’s granddaughter is a recent graduate of Marsh Fork Elementary. The tears streaming down his granddaughter’s face after she had to leave school feeling sick three days in a row were the catalyst to get Ed involved in an issue that, until recently, has remained unknown outside of a small part of the Appalachian coalfields.

In a deeply concerned fashion with fiery eyes Ed stated those tears didn’t lie as she told him, “Gramps, that coal plant is making us kids sick.” Ed has tried and tried again to get the Governor of West Virginia Joe Manchin to step up to the plate and act on this situation but he has met nothing but apathy and lies.

Last year Ed underwent a hunger strike on the steps of the Capitol in Charleston, West Virginia until Manchin finally agreed to speak with him. Ed received nothing but empty promises. August 2, 2006 Ed declared, “It’s a sad day in West Virginia that we have to leave our state and walk to do what we gotta’ do to help our children in West Virginia,” Ed said from the Capitol as he was about to kick off his walk to raise awareness about the school, as well as funds to build a new one inside their community through a citizen led movement called the Pennies of Promise campaign (penniesofpromise.org).

Marsh Fork Elementary, housing approximately 220 students, sits next to a coal preparation plant in the shadows of a coal silo 225 feet away, less than the legal limit of 300 feet from a school building as stated by 1977 federal Surface Mining Control and Reclamation Act. When coal is loaded onto trains and sprayed with chemical binding agents, the chemicals and fugitive coal dust float like unseen seeds of despair into the school’s ventilation system. They then unnoticeably enter into the lungs of faculty and students. The dust is so small in size that it cannot be seen and never leaves the bronchial capillaries once inhaled. The dust is there to stay forever. A recent study confirmed resident’s suspicions that coal dust is in fact entering the school. Add the diesel fuel fumes from the trains and the anti-freeze that is sprayed onto the coal cars in the winter and you’ll get sick kids. Children have been known to have respiratory problems and headaches, many having to leave school to go home early, yet no health tests have been conducted as of yet.

Not only does a coal silo sit next to the school, separated by the Marsh Fork of the Coal River where iron seeps into the water, turning it red and yellow from inadequate infrastructure, but a 385-foot high earthen and slate dam hovers ominously overhead, leaking as noted by the Mine Safety and Health Administration, holding back up to 2.8 billion gallons of toxic sludge that is produced after the coal is washed and cleaned. The impoundment has received 241 citations since 1991. Directly behind this toxic sludge pond a 1,849-acre mountaintop removal mining operation is underway and growing nonstop, setting off explosives everyday that can sometimes be felt miles away, shaking houses and the dam itself.

All of the temperate hardwood forest and wildlife that once speckled a part of the second most biodiverse habitat in the world are gone at this mining operation, transformed into a barren moonscape giving way to erosion and runoff conditions of unnatural proportions. Heavy rains leach away sediment and newly exposed minerals that have been harbored underground for centuries. This newly compacted terrain acts as a funnel for the runoff that was once dissipated by the forest canopy and infiltrated into the soil, thereby greatly increasing pressure on the dam.

Fossils of plants embedded in slate from thousands of years ago hail down into the surrounding forest from the explosions. Clouds of silicon dust and fertilizers that are used and make the explosives drift downwind towards the school after blasts. Silicon dust has long been known to enter the lungs where it cuts the inner tissue. Luckily blasting times were finally changed and only occur after school lets out now since it scared the children and damaged their health, but that is far from enough. This is a dire situation that Ed describes by saying, “If we do not all stand up and take part in what is happening in our Appalachia mountains, we are all going to suffer from this.”

Ed Wiley believes every child should have a safe and healthy school inside their own community, one where they don’t have to live in fear.

Don Blankenship, CEO of Massey Energy, is someone who may think otherwise His company is trying to get a permit for a second silo near the school. It was approved then rescinded last year in an unprecedented move by the Department of Environmental Protection because an investigative reporter found out the property lines had magically moved over the years. Massey reapplied for the permit for a second coal silo and while Ed was walking it was denied because it was within the legal limit of 300 feet, like the coal silo that is already on site. 

Since the scorching summer day of August 2, 2006 Ed has been walking at an unruly pace not many could keep up with, leaving behind, at least physically, the school that haunts his thoughts on a mission to Washington D.C. to talk with key policy makers He originally planned to arrive in D.C. around September 12, but he may get there sooner depending on his ardent and unrelenting pace.

The man carries a huge purple flag, one of the school’s colors, painted with a scene of the mountains and coal silo behind the school with footsteps to Washington. Passersby constantly wave, honk, and stop as news of his journey spreads. He happily greets anyone that stops or crosses his path.

This is the ugliest door in the mansion of political corruption that has been all too prevalent inside West Virginia and its relationship with one of the most beautiful landscapes in the United States. It is a blatant disregard for the well being of our children to further short term profits while people and our natural environment suffer irrevocable damages. Governor Manchin said he would do everything in his power to do what is right for the children yet he has done nothing. 

A similar impoundment constructed by the same company in Martin County, Kentucky failed in 2001, releasing 309 million gallons of toxic sludge. Luckily no people were killed in that horrible event labeled by the EPA as the worst environmental disaster to befall the southeastern United States. That catastrophe was around 20 times larger than the Exxon Valdez oil spill in volume, and the only difference here is this dam behind Marsh Fork is tremendously larger, holding 2.8 billion gallons of the viscous toxic slurry.

So Ed Wiley trudges on.

This concerned grandfather walks through one of the hottest months on record to date, through downpours and all, having to be stopped by his support vehicle while he wants to continue and trod onward after 17 miles on the hot asphalt in 97 degree heat. He moves with a sense of purpose, one nothing can deter. He isn’t a machine, but passion and concern flow in his veins pushing him forward through something he refers to as a very small sacrifice for the health and safety of our children. Ed Wiley has been pushed beyond his limit by an atrocity endangering the lives of children for greed and cheap energy.

Adam Daniel spent the summer in West Virginia’s coal country witnessing the dirty and destructive force of mountaintop removal. To find out more information about Ed Wiley’s walk and information about donating funds to help build a new, safe school please visit www.penniesofpromise.org.