The Dollop with Dave Anthony and Gareth Reynolds - 68 - Centralia, Pennsylvania

Episode Date: March 22, 2015

Dave Anthony and Gareth Reynolds discuss the coal town of Centralia, Pennsylvania.  SOURCESTOUR DATESREDBUBBLE MERCHPATREON

When you're staying at an Airbnb you might be like me wondering could my place be an Airbnb and if it could what could it earn? You could be sitting on an Airbnb and not even know it. That in-law sweet guest house where your parents stay only part-time Airbnb it and make some money the rest of the year whether you could use a little extra money to cover some bills or for something a little more fun. Your home might be worth more than you think. Find out how much at airbnb.ca you are listening to the dollop this is a history podcast in which each week I Dave Anthony read a story from American

history to my friend. Gareth Reynolds who has no idea what the topic is about because he don't go outside. That's right. Yeah he's not allowed to legally it's a probation. Thank you. It's a probation. Thank you. Do you want to look who to do? I'll do one bottle. People say this is funny. Not Gary Gareth. Dave okay. Someone or something is tickling people. Is it for fun? And this is not going to become a tickly podcast. Okay. You are queen fakie of made-up town. All hail Queen Shit of Liesville. A bunch of religious virgins go to mingle and do what? Pray. Hi Gary. No. I see you've done my friend.

No. Hello Gary. In 1749 Native Americans tribe tribes local to what is now Columbia County Pennsylvania sold the land to colonial agents for the sum of five hundred pounds. Smart. Five hundred clams. Smart. Yeah. Long term. In 1793 Robert Morris a hero of the Revolutionary War and a signatory of the Declaration of Independence acquired a third of the Valley land. Okay. So he's swinging a big dick. Sure. Yeah that's a big dick swinging. He declared bankruptcy in 1798 and the land was surrendered to the Bank of the United States. Then a

French sea captain named Stéphane Girard purchased Morris's land for thirty thousand due to the coal in the region. Coal. Right. Coal. Fuel. In 1832 Jonathan Faust opened the Bullshead Tavern in what was called Roaring Creek Township and this gave the town its first name Bullshead. Okay. Apparently the naming of towns was just a weird thing. Yeah it's just not. Well someone open up a bar. All right there we go. Well we've got our name. We're called O'Reilly's now. All right. Welcome to Benagon City. Welcome to TGIF. Welcome to TGI Montana. In 1842 the land was bought by the Locust Mountain Coal and Iron Company

and Alexander Ray a mining engineer moved his family in and began planning a village laying out the streets and lots for development. Ray named the town Centerville. Wow we should have gone back to Bullshead. Centerville. Centerville. Right in the center of Bullsville. That's smart. I don't know why but in 1865 it was changed to Centrelia. Jesus Christ. Because the U.S. Post Office already had a Centerville in Shoekill County. In Shoekill? Yep. S. C. H. U. Y. K. L. L. I think Shoekill's fair. Yeah it sounds like a shoe. Shoe? Yeah. Shoekill. The Mine Run Railroad was then built in 1854 to transport the coal out of the valley. Now people who live

in Shoekill County are already like it's not it's not how you say it. Yeah. The first two mines. You like shoes. It's the first two mines in Centrelia opened in 1856. The Locust Run Mine and the Coal Ridge Mine. After it came the Hazeldale Coalery Mine in 1860, the Centrelia Mine in 1862 and the Continental Mine in 1863. So shit's fucking happening. Yeah. It's a coal city. Mine wise things are popping. And that's always good news. Yeah it's good news for the local economy and for the environment. And the people. The people who live there. Yeah that's right. Are treated super well. I tell you when a mine comes to town everybody

wins. Yeah. Now the Molly McGuire's where a secret society started in Ireland and moved to the U. S. with Irish immigration. They use violence and terrorism to combat the conditions of mines inflicting horror on police supervisors owners blowing up railroad cars full of coal organizing riots sending out threats to everyone who spoke out against them. And Centrelia was a hotbed of Molly McGuire's activity during the 1860s in an October 17th 1868. Alexander Ray founder of the town was on his way to Centrelia when he was ambushed and murdered by a group of men who would later be identified as Molly

McGuire's. Wait so they were anti-mines? Yeah they were they were basically they were basically like it was like a like a violent labor party. Why was there why just because I'll do I'll do a whole separate episode on the Molly McGuire's because they they came from Ireland and it it was they were just like get like terrorism but they sound adorable. I'll be honest. They were just trying to help people out. Sure. Ray was murdered for a large sum of money that he was thought to have in his possession. Three men were arrested along with a fourth shortly shortly after and the first three were tried and acquitted and the fourth was

let go. Okay. The murder remained a mystery until 1876 when a man named Kelly the bum confessed to the crime. Jesus. I mean it's a terrible nickname. Terrible. If that's your nickname then don't do a crime with that guy. Yeah it's like when someone changes your name from Gareth to Gary. Hey do you want it? I'm not really sure that. Yeah. Hey. It's a downgrade of a nickname as well. Who else should we get to kill to kill this fella? What about Kelly the bum O'Reilly? Oh let me add him. I'm the bum I am. The bum confessed to the crime and implicated Patrick Hester, Patrick Tolley and Peter McGill. The trial was quickly labeled

the Molly McGuire trial and the public was enthralled. The three men were convicted of murder of the murder of Ray and sentenced to death by hanging over a year later on March 25th, 1878. Hester Tolley and McGill were hung in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania. The event was not covered by local papers. That's smart. That town would later be called Hanksville. It was covered by the National Papers. Oh it was only covered by the National Papers. Like this isn't happening. Local news, the weather. What's going on? This was the only Molly McGuire trial and execution in Columbia County. A local legend says that father Daniel Ignatius

McDermott, a Roman Catholic priest in Centralia, cursed the land in retaliation for being assaulted by three members of the Molly McGuires in 1869. Sure that's logical. McDermott said that there would be a day when Saint Ignatius Roman Catholic Church would be the only structure remaining in Centralia. Oh boy. The town of Centralia hit its maximum population of 2,761 in the year 1890. At its peak, the town had seven churches, five hotels, 27 saloons. I got a bad feeling Dave. Why? Two theaters, a bank, a post office, and 14 general and grocery stores. Because towns don't normally peak 150 years ago. It's true if

you do use the word peak. It's not a good sign. Yeah. In 1927, Cole reached its peak in this area of Pennsylvania. World War I led to many young miners enlisting in the war. The 1929 stock market crash led to the closing of the Lehigh Valley Cole Company and the closing of five of its Centralia mines. In the year 1950, the Centralia Council acquired the rights to all coal beneath Centralia through a state law passed in 1949 that enabled the transaction. That year there were 1,986 residents living in Centralia. So they got all the rights to everything that was underneath the ground. Just. Well, there was some

sort of state law. It all sounds very suspicious. Okay. You're mine, mine. So they got the rights and then the fire started. Hmm. Yeah. You don't hear that very often. No. So what? Continue. There are three different theories about how the fire started. One, in 1962, workers set a heap of trash ablaze in a trash pit, which used to be a mine pit. And that was now used as the borough's landfill. The burning of excess trash was a common practice. Yet at that particular place, there was an exposed vein of coal. The highly flammable mineral was ignited by the trash fire, prompting a quick effort to put it out. Who's lighting trash fires in mines?

Just these guys? Yeah, that's not a good move. Oh, no. Come on. You're just a naysayer. Well, let's go light a trash fire next to all that coal. Well, to be fair, and you learned that it was supposed to be okay to do it there. The flames on the surface were successfully extinguished, and they thought all was well. But the coal continued to burn underground. Over the following weeks, it spread into the surrounding coal mines and beneath the town. That's just good. Now, that's the first theory. The second theory says that the fire had actually started the previous day when a trash hauler dumped hot ash discarded into the open trash pit.

Borough Council minutes from June 4, 1962 refer to two fires of the dump and that the fire fire decided submitted bills for, quote, fighting the fire at the landfill area. The borough by law was responsible for installing fire resistant clay barrier between each layer. So they were supposed to have put clay above the coal stuff. Right. Because the coal stuff. Because coal is flammable. Right, it catches on fire and you're putting hot fire stuff in. Yeah. Clay will eliminate that. But they fell behind schedule and they let the barrier incomplete. Oopsie-daisy. And then you just don't tell anyone, then you just let trash fires happen or you just let people dump fire. You know, it

stuff happens. Yeah, yeah. Dude, totally, dude. This allowed the hot coals to penetrate the vein of coal underneath the pit and start the subsequent subterranean fire. Now, a third and what is basically a local legend. The prodigy. Sells that the best color, color year fire of 1932 was never fully put out. And in 1962, it finally reached the landfill. That's a stupid one. A 30 year fire just chilling. That's just well, when well, when the time's right, boys, we'll strike again. That's my fire impression. Be patient, guys. That's what a fire says. Yeah, be patient, everyone who's also a flame. Hey, other flames. Yes. Wait. Okay. Wait. Hide your time flames.

Wait. On my count. And wait. Wait for it. We're gonna hold on. We're gonna wait 30 years. Excuse me. Wait. Wait for it. Just wait. Be patient, guys. Yeah, I'm a fire. I don't like this. And I appreciate how you're handling this. I'm a fire. Just chill out. Hot fire. Chill out. Calm down, boy. The fire wasn't even reported to the state until July. The first attempt to put it out was an offer by a mining engineer who said he'd dig it out with a backhoe for $175. Oh, there's a superman. There he comes. That's the guy. Here comes Larry. I'll go dig it out. Give me my money. I got this. I need like a $175 and I'll get up there and put out that fire there. I'll be fine. I made the best best

of this. But the money had to go through the proper channels before he could do anything and nothing was done. Good. So no one, no one pulled together $175. Cool. Meanwhile, some nearby mines were closed down to protect workers from poisonous gas. Another early attempt involved a strip miner who said he'd dig it out if he was allowed to keep enough coal to make it worth his while. Okay. But the fire was now a state problem and any operations had to be open for bids. Ah, so more delays happened and the fire continued to spread underground. So just being just bureaucracy is getting in the way of putting out a fucking fire. Yeah, a little bit. Yeah, that's good. The Pennsylvania Department of Environmental

Resources began monitoring the fire by drilling holes in the earth to determine the extent and temperature of the fire. Now, it's really hot. This only made things worse because by drilling holes, they provided the fire with oxygen in a natural draft, feeding the coal's combustion. All right. I'll tell you what's weird is it's getting hotter. It wasn't hot and then we started drilling and it's not. It's way hotter now. It's much hotter now. Have you seen the movie Backdraft? No. Oh, we should watch that in the future. Right. In the future. Sorry. Where are you? I don't know. Excuse me. Where'd that man go? As a precaution, the department also installed gas monitors in many homes within the affected

area. But nonetheless, many residents still complained of symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning. Old CO. A fun, a fun poisoning again. Old CO. Carbon monoxide is colorless, odorless and tasteless, but highly toxic. It causes a tired feeling and can be lethal when you inhale large amounts of it. Yeah, the best way to kill yourself in a garage. I've always said that. Since it was a state problem, the town council let them handle it. The fire was underground and quote, out of sight, out of mind. You know, I guess the underground fires are fine. This fire reminds me a lot of just the world right now. Don't worry about it. Yeah, it's very climate changey. Don't worry about a thing. The fires seem

to be in a little hurry itself, waiting until 1967 for another attempt to extinguish. I'm sorry. I said the fires seem to be in a little hurry, didn't I? Yeah. I meant the state, we said it earlier. I honestly was ready to do more fire impressions. I was like, all right, now the fire's fired up. Now the state seemed to be in a little hurry, waiting until 1967 for another attempt to extinguish the fire. Jesus. So why don't you just wait around for five years? Yeah, just chill. Just chill. Whatever, it's underground. Chill. Don't worry about this. We'll get to it. Listen, the Fraggles have something to worry about, not us. This is a Fraggle problem if I've ever heard of one. In 1969, seven years after the fires

started, a more involved effort was made to contain the fire using trenches and using clay seals to block the air supply to the fire. Okay. But it failed. Okay, sure. More attempts were made. The mines were flushed with water and the burning coal was excavated, but those efforts were also unsuccessful. Wow. So it's just so, it's just so deep. Yeah. I mean, they just, they can't get all of it. No, but didn't think about that. Like, if it's in the vein, like how really, I mean, you have to go and dig it out. Yeah. You have to dig out the vein. There's no other way to get it. Water wouldn't just. Well, no water, water would go on the outside, but it was burning on the inside of that. Yeah. How do you get

inside there to get it? Yeah. To get the water on it. At least that's my genius science fire understanding. Dave, we're just a couple of doctors hanging out chewing the fat. We've always said that. The work continued for years at a great expense with no progress. But the efforts themselves were problematic. Cool. That's good. It was not run like a concentrated effort to kill a mindfire, but more as a regular day job. Ah, interesting. Well, that's lunch. Only one eight hour shift a day with holidays off. Wow. I mean, really, could you be taking a fire less seriously? Why not just start pouring fuel down the hole? Fucking nine to fiveing it. Some said this is not the way to tackle a fire. Some means everyone. Yeah,

no, it's five. It's five PM, boys. Well, we almost got her today. I'll tell you what's cool is when we come back tomorrow, all the good we did will be undone. Have you noticed how we're never out of this job? Anyway, like I know it was supposed to be a temp one, but man, we are collecting paychecks. Just me or is this fire perpetual? They even had come close to putting out the fire around Labor Day one year, then took a five day weekend for the holiday. Sorry. Sorry. They didn't make the calendar. Oh, you know what? I got a boat. So I can't finish. No, I kept your Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, really. Sally bought so much food and we're going to make we're having a couple barbecues

over the weekend. Look over there. Look over there, Jim. The fire, the fire is almost good and now we just got a few more. We got to go a few more hours. And I agree. Yeah. And I'm excited to do that. We've been working this whole week. Let me finish after the holiday week and I'm excited to do that. Okay. Well, no, I'm going to spend some time with the kids. Okay, I need you here. The fire will still be here when we get back. But I know that's actually the problem. The fire does. Don't worry. Well, anyway, we got watermelon. An idea of digging trenches was abandoned and a new plan of action was chosen. Dave, I'm excited. Yep. Fly ash is the inorganic residue left after coal was burned. It was

a fairly effective means of stopping fires in. Here's a word I should have looked up. It's okay. Bituminous. Bituminous? Bituminous. Bituminous coal mines. Sure. Yeah. Oh, bituminous. But these were not bituminous coal mines. These were anthracite coal mines, which are much more flammable. Right. And where the fly ash tends to slide down the shaft, making the attempt unsuccessful. Cool. So, so nothing's working except. Well, now the people of Centrelia were sold on the coal ash idea as the best way to deal with the situation. Don't let the experts handle it. Let the people lead you. But in fact, excavation was still the best way of stopping the fire. Sorry. County officials felt the cost benefit analysis made

digging trenches undesirable. Yeah. Well, look, it's not very chic. Mm hmm. Mm hmm. Therefore digging was not an option. And the much less effective means was used. Good result. Smart. Well, let me, can I guess? Yeah, go ahead. More fire. Yes. Yeah. The fires continue to burn. Sure. Yeah. I can't believe you guessed that. Well, it's just when you said that they chose the far less and effective method. Yeah. That was a clue. It's an effective method for a different type of coal. Right. But again, the people don't like to differentiate their coal. No, no. Coal is coal. Yes. Thank you. Thank you. In addition to the fly ash barrier, a small trench was dug in 1969 and actually came close to getting things under

control. Then digging was halted because additional state and money was denied. Yeah. Well, you know, why? Why the fuck would they deny it? I mean, what is more important? I don't know. Yeah. I don't know. You don't want to bet. You can just that's was the let earth burn inside forever. Well, we'll come to why the state sorry, but we need school buses. Welcome to this town that's going to burn from the inside out. There may be a sinister reason as the fire continue to grow and grow and grow. 1969 was also when the first evacuations took place. There were concerns about carbon monoxide seeping into homes through the basement and with the danger inherent and three families removed from their homes and their houses

were destroyed. So now in some houses, just a lot of it's just just, you know, cold burning so a lot of carbon monoxide is coming in and I can't save the house. By 1972, many holes were drilled around the town, which showed evidence of carbon monoxide building up underground to dangerous levels. Bureaucracy led to more arguing and passing of the buck. At some point though, if you're just drilling all these holes to find out what the deal is underneath it, are you not making the problem of carbon monoxide leaking worse? I don't know what you're talking about. Okay, I can barely hear you. Well, feels like I've been pretty clear. The whole situation was becoming more difficult to pretend it was inconsequential

or invisible. Right on time. You know what? I don't know if we can ignore this anymore because people might be dying. Yeah. By 1977, temperatures reaching as high as 746 degrees. Excuse me? By 1977, temperatures reaching as high as 746 degrees were found in one woman's backyard behind her swimming pool. What the fuck? Her jacuzzi. Her jacuzzi. Thank you. You did not have to warm that pool so there's benefits. Yeah. Saving in the electricity bill. Yeah. Also your pool. Cooking your meat in the pool. Your pool's a deep fryer, exactly. Your pool, you can now, you can, the dream of having a way to make tempura while swimming is finally realized. A giant, giant burning vat. Dude, just hop in there with a fucking

uncooked turkey. Yeah. The garden vegetables were burning in the soil. Hey, do you want to, do you want to have? Who wants fajitas? The carrots are cooked. It's like your vegetables, whenever you go to one of those restaurants where they bring out the fajitas like it's a big deal. Yeah. It's sizzling. Those are your vegetables. Sizzling right out of the ground. Yeah. This all sounds good to me. Oh, Dave, this is the town to go to. Residents claim that basements are so warm they didn't need to use their hot water heaters to warm bath water. That's a shame. Also at the time, Pennsylvania's Department of Environmental Services began placing carbon monoxide detectors in homes. They turned out to be less effective.

Some residents went and bought canaries to do their own monitoring. Jesus. Is it bad when you have to have a canary in your house to see if it's going to die? I think it shows that your government is working hard for you and that they care about what happens. And that at that point, fucking canaries must have just known the deal. Like anytime someone comes into a pet store, they'd be like, sweet God. Well, Charles, it's been real. I'm going to go die from poison. The people of Centralia were never actually informed as to what carbon monoxide levels constituted danger. No health. Why didn't they just Google it? No health study was done. That's good. Why would you need one? There's nothing going on here where

you need a health study. It's just like a barbecue. Enough already. Enough. We've got labor day coming up. What are we going to do? Take a break? Are we going to do a health study every time you fire up the Weber? Come on, Jim. In 1979, the town became aware of just how bad the situation was when gas station owner and then mayor John Coddington inserted a dipstick into one of his underground tanks to check the fuel level. Oh, shit. When he withdrew it, it seemed very hot. So he checked the temperature of the gas. He discovered it was 180 degrees to the rest of the world. That's 82.22 Celsius. Jesus. That's not good. I don't know when gasoline lights on fire and explodes, but it's got to be super

close. Yeah, you don't want to be in the conversation of that. Gases were also discovered at a nearby school. In August of 1980, the Bureau of Mines announced that no further action was to be taken and the fire left alone. What? Why the fuck? Who's? What the fuck? That's not good enough. According to them, the best course was to do nothing and let the fire burn itself out. Who the fuck is saying this? Just like a dude. I mean, who's saying this? The Bureau of Mines. The Bureau of Mines. Let her go. She'll be fine. Well, after much soul searching, we've realized the best way to put this fire out is to let the fire tire itself out. Yeah, I think you're going to love her idea. Let her go. Nobody's

working there anymore. Don't worry about it. It's all going to be fine. Trust me. This is a good, normal sounding plan. This is 1980 now. This is not long enough. It's been burning for 18 years. This is not long enough ago, and it's been burning for too long. In 1981, a group of state and local representatives were gathered for a tour of the town. See over there is where we pull cooked carrots out of the ground. You guys are probably going to think that this town is pretty much one thing, a big poisonous wasteland. On that same day, the ground crumbled beneath the feet of 12-year-old Todd Domboski in his grandmother's backyard. He grabbed onto some roots and hung on for dear life. The sinkhole

was about four feet wide and 150 feet deep, and it had sufficient heat and carbon monoxide concentration that it would have killed the boy within minutes if his cousin had not been there to pull him to safety. Jesus Christ. His grandmother told him to go and form the men who were visiting, which he did. That's interesting. Hey, this is the burn hole in our backyard. Hey, welcome to our town. I almost fell into hell. Can you help? Hey, you guys want to see a hell mouth? Yeah, come with me. You look, if you reach in, you can touch the devil's horn. Get your hand deep in there, mister. Oh, that's just a daemon. Oh boy, a whole nickel. Thanks, mister. Well, that's Satan. The men examined the opening

and others around the town and had the emissions tested finding extremely high readings of carbon monoxide. Shocked. Enough to kill someone within minutes. One of the representatives tried to calling the governor to ask a state of emergency be declared. An 18 year state of emergency. He refused and put off a further meeting with the representative by a day in order to celebrate President's Day. I mean, they're really, really sticking to this holiday thing. President's Day is like such a dumb holiday. And they're just like, sorry, guys. What's that? What's that? That one invented one that's not Valentine's Day, like Sweetness Day or something? Sweetness Day. There's some other bullshit like twin of Valentine's Day,

which is already bullshit. The governor at this time was a gentleman named Dick Thornburg. You know what? And he really is like a thorny dick. He was a Republican. Well, I mean, I guess that party's clearly done a 180. Not all about the people. He went on to be a U.S. Attorney General from 1988 to 1991. Now let's enjoy his work. As far as the governor was concerned, there wasn't a sufficient risk for such a small town. Centralia wasn't economically or politically important enough for state or federal interest to be aroused to the point of actually taking effective action. It is a very boring place. It's very small and boring. So let's just let it sink into earth. Well, look, if there's a town of a couple thousand

people and it's catching on fire and there are poisonous gases wafting around, what's the point? There's no point. There's no point unless they have a lot of money. Yeah. Right? The town's a page one rewrite. Thank you. Yeah, so. But the incident with the boy did gain Centralia widespread attention. As it fucking should. I mean, you live in a fiery hellhole. The coal fire was now reported by national television networks, wire services, and international papers. Yeah. America, why is I fucking retarded about this one? Well, this made it more difficult to pretend the small town wasn't there or that the fire was no one's problem. And yet the governor and the secretary of the interior refused

to call the town a disaster area or call for a state of emergency. Centralia just wasn't important enough. Now this is Reagan and I believe the secretary of the interior was James Watts, who was a fucking nightmare of a human being. Time to fight a war on fire. I mean, he was just reprehensible. Surely I'm shocked. Yeah, I know. Surely after another incident took place, some neighbors have been watching. Now, also, I should say that this is the Reagan's whole thing was like Margaret Thatcher that there is no society. Right. So that's part of this. You're all off. You're all you're all on your own. Right. Is what is the motto during that time? That's right. Tip your wages. Some neighbors have been watching

television and fallen asleep due to building carbon monoxide levels in their house. And when carbon monoxide levels go up, oxygen levels decrease. But yes, it's safe to say they were sleeping like God damn. Oh, best sleep of their life. Deep, deep sleep and the dreams. Oh, buddy, the dream. Oh, man. I dreamt I was a dolphin and a woman jerked me off. One man happened to fall out of his bed waking his wife. But that's like a death fall. Like you don't fall out of bed. You're like dying. Yeah, like he must he must have been fought like reading and he was up kind of and then he just rolled over and then he was just mid die. Thump fell out of bed. That's the sound of a body. Honey. The wife called

the neighbors and an ambulance. By the way, hopefully in the reverse order, there is no question that he had that he had not had he not fallen asleep. All of them would have died. When gas levels were checked the following day, the oxygen level had dropped even more. Even after the houses had been opened up and the windows left open for three hours. What the fuck is the point of opening your windows? Well, oxygen is supposed to come in. But you you live in a town that is carbon monoxide. Well, it's not. It's just there's like pockets of it being really many pockets, many pockets. This is like, yeah. At that point about $7 million had been spent in the firefighting effort. Experts determined that the only option

remaining to effectively battle the fire can't wait would be a massive trenching operation which would cost about $660 million with absolutely no guarantee of success. A good plan. Remember when all those guys were taking days off and stuff? Yeah, Dave, Dave, Dave, you got a barbecue. I know it is about family. You got to have fun. It is about take the family out, throw the frisbee around for a little while. You're right. You know what I mean? Yep. You're right. No, you're right. I'm wrong. I'm wrong. And I'll say it. The governor finally did something for the people. A buyout program. It was established for the relocation of Centralia citizens who are closest to the fire. Despite promises of market value, 20%

was taken off for having your house close to the fire. So let me see if I can lay this out. So they were like, okay, there's a fire under your house. And because of that, we're going to give you money. But if there's a fire under your house, we're going to give you less money. Everybody good? Okay, you'll notice that our offer is not where it should be. But again, that's because of the fire that's underneath you. We were considering putting a hot dick in your ass, but we just decided to go with this. It's a mathematical hot dick in your ass. You like hot dicks, right? Because you're getting them. Oh, here it comes, baby. Alrighty. Most people refuse to consider leaving, still believing the fire

could be stopped and was not an immediate danger outside of the carbon monoxide problem, which seems to be an immediate danger. Yeah. I mean, that just shows you hold on now. Aside from the poison coming out of the ground, this is fine. Yes. Well, we're not going anywhere. That's what happens when you grew up in a town with a fire. You're just like, well, fire's fine. You're shitting me. I've been here for almost 20 years with this goddamn fire. Let me tell you something. I can't picture life without it. You know, I don't want you to put out the fire. Yeah. You think I want that? I've been having that for 20 years. We're dumb enough that you know there was a sect of like non-sprayers. We're the non-sprayers.

Don't you put that fire out. You son of a bitch, you put that hose down. You put that fire out, you put out the fire in the heart of Lady Liberty. Say, try this about burning like America. Don't tread on me. That includes fire. After having the fire burned for 20 years, they were already... I mean, just listen to what you said. After letting the fire burn for 20 years. They were already upset over the foot dragging, the inattention, and they failed lackluster attempts to put out the fire that was threatening not only the town, but now their lives to their some extent. Okay, that's totally fair. Yeah. Totally fair. To call it foot dragging is pretty sweet. It's pretty right on. It's legless crawling. Yeah.

The people were furious and this was further proof to them that the government just didn't care about them. Jokes were made about asking the Soviet Union for aid and this is a 1981. Yeah, one people. Yeah. Yeah. And protesters marched with signs saying, quote, why put out the people, put out the fire and ask not what your government can do for you. It doesn't give a damn. Catching. In response, the director of Pennsylvania Department of Health claimed that, quote, there's no health problem in Centralia and no Centralia home has ever had a dangerous level of gases. There we go. He's a straight shooter and he's honest. Just straight out lying out of his asshole. Yep. Beautiful. In 1982, borehole temperatures within the

burrow limits had reached 500 degrees, putting the fire directly under the town. Yeah. It's time for a town name change, by the way. What do you want to call it? Never go away. Fiery up Burnsville forever Burnsville. Hot as fuck city. It was also determined that it was almost fell into Hellsville. I like them all. I've got more. It was also determined that it was underneath State Route 61, all of which proved how bad the situation in Centralia was the situation that the governor and other officials had been denying existed. The story had gotten out when a mining engineer who had taken time to honestly answer questions about his findings to the local paper. So the story of how it was now 500 degrees right underneath the guy

just a guy who's working as a mining engineer was like, yeah, no, I'll talk to you. Someone finally like, yeah, he's like, I'll talk to you. Okay, sure. Oh, yeah. You want me to ask me some questions? Fire away. Literally fire away. The AP picked up the story. Being that it was during an election campaign, this made the governor look terrible. And he demanded the engineer be fired. Hey, truth teller. Yeah, you son of a bitch telling the truth about that town that's burning to death. Get the people back on your side. He was not fired, but a gag order was placed on him, preventing further leaks. Well, I'll tell you what, I wish they could prevent further leaks underground. Take care of that situation right there.

Just shut him up. Hey, let's put a gag order on the fire. No, just that man who talked about it too much. Hi, we're elected in pain. In January of the following year, temperatures rose under the road to 770 degrees. I mean, well, like, you couldn't walk on the no every imagine every step being like one of those Tony Robbins, like coal running. I don't know if they have lava boots, but everyone should have lava. Yeah, like, you know, when you go to the beach sometimes, and you're like, Oh, that's hot sand. Yeah, it's like that. Make it forever and everywhere. Cinecrack opened in the surface of the road, but the governor refused to close it off despite the obvious safety concerns. Fucking asshole, because

he wants pretending it's not happening. Yeah, I mean, but I guess, yeah, the plan is to just get through it. The crack widened and the temperature rose higher to 853 degrees. I mean, it's we have an underground kiln. The Pennsylvania Department of Transportation closed down the road at that point, and it became clear that the fire was getting close to being immediately dangerous to the survival of the town. Well, yeah, an independent study was done in 1983 that showed the fire to be much larger than thought and confirmed that it was directly under the town. It had been allowed to go on long enough that the cost was becoming unfeasible. What do we have now 25 years? Yeah, no, we're just 21 years. Okay.

A trench to the town was again recommended at a cost of 62 million. In 1963, the exact same plan had been proposed. And at that point, it would have cost $277,000. So it's a little bit, it went up a little bit in price. Well, inflation 20 years. An excavation of the fire was still estimated to run in the neighborhood of $660 million. So just don't do anything. So now the buyout program goes into effect. Okay. It's a voluntary program. There's a fund of $42 million in the federal government. Okay. The governor just assumed everyone would want to leave. That's why he made it voluntary. Right. Because why would you want to stay in the fire town? Yeah. The people were getting between 22,000 and 35,000 for their homes,

which was well below is what they needed to purchase another house in the area. Right. And that's not even considering the relocation costs. Many houses were going for two or three times the amount they received. So what? Yeah. So there's no reason to roll. No. So if you take 22,000 and you have to go buy a house for $66,000. I'd still go. I'd get the fuck out of there. I'd go live in a fucking shanty where I wasn't going to get blown up and shot to the moon like a rocket. Yeah. But do you think about it? I mean, it's such a, it's just fucked up. Like you, you see, you have to just basically declare bankruptcy. You know, it is very similar to California right now in a way. It kind of is. I mean, house

underwater. Yeah. Yeah. Well, that you have like, you know, you, the idea that we, there's a natural resource that is going to make our civilization tougher. Oh, water, you mean. Yeah. And, and don't worry about that. And you're not reading about it a lot. It's gonna be fine. Okay. Excited. It's gonna be fine. Yeah. One resident said. Can I drink your tears? One resident said, I'm scared. Hey, we're giving up our home going back into debt. We haven't had debt since 1964. So I can imagine how the elderly must feel. Right. So the elderly can't leave. Yeah. They don't have the fucking money to go buy another house. No. They could just go be homeless. Yeah. Or rent a place until they run out of money. Now, see, if

you're elderly, I stay. Yes. Yeah. Exactly. Yeah. You do stay if you're old. Fuck yes. Borrowed time. Fuck this shit. Yeah, you're dying. It gives a shit. I might get a bigger place around the area. Yeah. Fuck it. Closer to the fucking sinkhole. Might go jump in that burn pool and die. How much for me to move for underground? How much incentive there? When a person accepted the relocation deal and left their house, the house was demolished. The first house was knocked down in December 1984. By the time the relocation program was supposed to end in the end of 1986, there were only 50 households remaining with about 100 people left in the town. Wow. So two years later, it worked. I mean, out of the 500 houses

or whatever, you know, and they're all knocked down. As soon as someone says I'm leaving, they bulldoze the fucking place. Just because? But the trench could not be dug while people still live there. Oh, although it was probably not even being considered in reality. And even if people left and they built the trench, what was the point with their houses being demolished? No one was ever coming back. Yeah. The property was now owned by the government. About 500 billion buildings have been demolished. 1991. 10 years have passed. A new governor was in office and near the end of his second term, there were still people refusing to give up their Centrelia homes, figuring that when the expected legal challenge hit, he

would already be out of office. The governor turned the voluntary relocation program into a matter of imminent domain. He's like, fuck it, I'll just kick these people out. I don't give a shit what happens. I'm out of office who gives a fuck. Residents were sent eviction notices advising them to leave. They, of course, legally challenged the notices. Fuck you, I'm dying. And it progressed through the Pennsylvania court system until the state Supreme Court chose not to hear it. Yeah, I don't want to hear that. That seems super complicated and I'm good. No, no, I don't think so. Just not relevant or it feels icky. Yeah. I don't think it's worth our time. It was then taken to the US Supreme Court who also refused.

Good. So the people would have to leave their homes. That was the, which is good. Yeah. Right. By then what remained are about 30 houses. Okay. So can you imagine you're in this town of 500 houses and then they're all smashed down. There's just 30 of you. Yeah. Just like a pockmarked around the town. It's like a reality show. So there's 30 houses of municipal building and a post office, a few businesses and a church or two. One of the churches was the St. Ignatius of legend. The one the priest who had been assaulted said it would be the only building left. Wow. Yeah. Hey, remember when I read that and you said, Oh, horseshit forgot about that. Yeah. Who was right? I don't think I said horseshit.

Well, close enough. No, I think whatever. It doesn't matter what you said. That's what we're now saying. You said, I don't think that's very fair. But in 1997, that too was torn down in 1997, the church was torn down. I didn't think we'd be hitting the grungiers with this shit coming up. Jesus Christ. Grunge is over, baby. I mean, grunge is peaked. It's fucking kick rock time. The kid rockers with this fucking fire. By 1998, there was about 5 million left of the original $42 million fund. At that time, around 800 properties have been acquired by the government, though a number of people still remain. While eminent domain was enforced, the government seemed unwilling to actually enforce it and really

make the last standing. I mean, they'd have to go in and pull them out. That's what we're talking about now. They'd have to send in forces. Just fucking dig in the trenches. They'll figure it out. That year, the state declared a moratorium on additional sewer connections to Centralia. That'll stop them. Well, let's see how they gas of another nature. Let's see how they do without more shitpipes. I mean, their houses aren't there. It's not like they're still building things. You know what we're going to do? We're going to shut down construction via the sewer pipe. All right. By 2001, the number of people living in Centralia had dropped to about 20. 20. And the same amount of buildings were standing.

20 buildings, 20 people. That include 84-year-old Mayor Lamar Mervin. Now, essentially, squatters, the people refused to leave, many feeling it only a matter of time before the fire burns itself out. So we've come full circle with our dumb thinking. Despite, I'm sure this has been the whole time, I'm fine. Despite gas emissions and extreme temperatures in some areas, the people in their homes seem to be safe. While most people believe those left in the town refused to leave because they're stubborn, there may be another reason. Those living there believe that one reason the government was pushing everyone to leave is because the town owns the mineral rights. Once the last person is

bought out and leaves, the mineral rights would be in possession of the government. And given the lack of response to actually stopping the fire over the decade, this belief has been strengthened. So the whole reason is just so that everyone leaves so that they can make money off of the minerals. Yeah. That's cool. They also claim the state actually used $190,000 of the relocation money to buy and plant wildflowers and trees in the town, despite it being a dying town. What the fuck? I mean, that makes... I mean, in the realm of none of this really making any sense, that makes almost the least sense. Well, flowers are nice. But what the fuck? Hey, where are those flowers we planted? Oh, they wilted

and died. Did you imagine they're bulldozing houses? Yeah. I said a bunch of dudes come in and put flowers in. Yeah, imagine if you're like one of these 20 people sticking around, you're like, I don't know, which way's fucking up in this town? What the fuck? Are we dying or are we fucking gardening? Are we making a comeback? What's happening? Bushes says come back to me, my man. The citizens believe that the mental rights explain these actions, and even though the fire has lasted over 40 years, there's still a great deal of anthracite coal remaining in the area, and it is worth a great deal of money. For the 40th anniversary of the start of the fire, there were 15 residents remaining, people who wouldn't have gone for

a million dollars. Quote. Well, not smart. It's not like the town looks like the wastelands from hell. There are no towers of flame leaping up from pits, no natural chimneys belching plumes of smoke. There is some smoke that issues from cracks and fissures, steam with the smell of sulfur, the vegetation around the openings that also serve to feed the fire with oxygen is dead. Nearby rocks are warm or hot to the touch, snow rarely lasts long no matter how much the town gets. And there is always the danger of a carbon monoxide buildup. Much of this does not affect the homes and the remaining people. They are waiting it out. Either the fire will eventually end or they will be finally removed or they will

die there. People from the state still come out periodically and check temperatures and emissions and monitor the fire. It affects at least 450 acres. I'm sorry. Go ahead. Are we talking about present day? Yeah, it's still cooking. It is estimated the fire could spread to over 3000 acres. As one resident said for an article in 2001, quote, nothing will burn forever. He's listening, but since Charlie has been burning for 40 years. 40 years. And the list that that dude just rolled off? Yeah. A lot of down. A lot of bad things. The fire is still burns and it's growing and it will continue to grow for a long time. There's enough coal in the eight mile vein to feed the fire for up to 250 years. I mean,

we're really ridiculous. Though it may burn itself out in as few as 100 years. Yeah. I mean, the last census in 2010 revealed the number of people living in the town is now seven, seven people who just give it up. Go leave your poison area. Large portions of the town are being reclaimed by nature, leaving meadows crisscrossed with overgrown asphalt rows and the occasional steaming or smoking hillside. Very abnormal thing. Residents are expected to return in 2016 to open a time capsule that was buried in the town in 1966 back when the town's future was somewhat optimistic. No more fucking digging holes in this town for space caps for time capsules or anything. They're going to open up this burn. All right.

Let's do I think we met. Oh, shit. Oh, Christ. That's fire. God damn it. I should have put on oven mitts. This is a goddamn hot time capsule. You thought you couldn't touch rocks before. Holy shit. There are currently no further plans to extinguish the fire. Good. And most modern maps no longer show a dot where Centrelia once stood. And then why the fuck would they? In the winter months, you can see the steam rising from the ground. There are low round metal vent steam sticking out of the ground south of the borough. So they built these like so in the picture, you can see these like it looks like a big sort of trash kind of thing. And there's a steam coming out of it. Hey, cool. And several signs

warning of underground fire, carbon monoxide and unstable ground in some places. The ground down beneath is too hot for almost anything to grow. It's almost brown and they're falling down charred dead trees everywhere. Lovely. 50 miles north in Carbondale, a minefire burned under that town for 33 years before pedering out dozens of such fires rates throughout the country impossible to extinguish eating through coal veins from Alaska to the Carolinas. But Centrelia is a special case. It sure is. The best way to tell if you've reached Centrelia is to look out for cars pulled out on the side of the road, curious tourists trekking over abandoned pavement with their cameras. There are smoking piles of asphalt and debris,

but there are no neon signs marking the town, not even any caution tape. On some structures, paper signs read quote, stay out, stay alive, mines and quarries are not playgrounds. A sign nailed to a tree points out Wood Street in one direction. And the other arrow is simply marked fire. A reporter recently visited Highway 61 and found it was deserted except for a group of skateboarders using the upturned asphalt as a ramp. Fishers ran through as if someone had lifted the highway and dropped it. Empty cigarette packets and bottles of cheap booze were scattered around the edges of the road, which had been covered in graffiti, song lyrics, empty boats, crew drawings, declarations of honor and friendship, names

painted in three foot tall letters, quote, this time will take me this time will eventually win one message read. So it's like a party place. Yeah, it would be a great party place if you're in high school. Yeah. That's I mean, yeah, in a nobody's there to give a fuck. No, no, it gives a fuck. I mean, when you're tagging your liquor bottles, you're fucking having some fun. In October of 2013, the state reached an agreement with the remaining seven residents of Centralia. Seven residents. This is a year and a half ago. They would be allowed to stay in their homes until they died. After which the property rights, the mineral rights would transfer to the state. In the 2010 census, there was one person aged

25 to 29, one aged 50 to 54, one aged 59 to 55 to 59 for age 60 to 64 and two aged 70 to 74 and one aged 80 to 84. So there's one person there who is under 50. The 25 year old needs to get the fuck out of there for multiple reasons. Right. Well, maybe just a total loner like doesn't want to still I hate people like it's like a like this kind of sounds like Brian Posein's ultimate place to live. Still, I think that you would eventually the carbon and the fact that everyone I mean, these people are already tired enough with all the carbon monoxide, they probably crashed like 145.

Centralia was the inspiration for the video game and film Silent Hill. Did you ever play it? No. Or see it? No, no. I remember I played the video game. So I was like, I'll watch the movie. It's a terrible, terrible movie. But it didn't make sense to me at all. I didn't I didn't understand what was happening. But now that I read this, I was like, oh, that's what it is. That's why I never fully like explained to you what's happening. Well, now it makes sense that the town is like that. Like they never I never understood why the town was covered in ash. I want to put up a little text at the beginning. People have heads up.

This is fire and brinstone. Yeah, that's America right there. Well, good, dude. You like it? Yeah. No, I'm proud of us. And I'm glad that it's still happening. And may she may she go on forever, brother. I'll tell you what I'm saying. May that fire burn like America burns. I'll tell you what, man, we do not. We if we put that fire out, been lied and yeah, that's right. America's hot on the inside and out. You ain't going to stop her from being hot and earth scream from its soul. God damn it. That's ridiculous. Yeah. Merry Christmas, everybody. Yep. Don't get near the tree.