The Last Wish - Polution in Lake Catherine

The Last Wish

Hot Springs neighbors suffer in silence in the shadow of UMETCO’s non-compliant landfill operation.

*Names marked with an asterisk have been changed to protect individual privacy.
By Denise Parkinson

At the summit of Stanage Drive, the view to the west takes in rolling hills that cradle a lovely sunset. Adjacent Stanage Terrace has the same Ouachita Mountain view, in real estate terms a selling point. Except that for families wanting to move away, the view behind this small neighborhood cancels it out: UMETCO Minerals Corporation’s hundreds of acres of vanadium mine waste, hidden in the hills above these wood-frame cottage.
With no signs, buildings or anything displaying the word “UMETCO” anywhere to be found in the area, it takes a little digging to learn that the vast grass-covered hill behind these houses is actually a mining landfill. Beneath the grassy surface lie 10,000,000 tons of bleeder sludge and byproducts of nearby Stratcor Minerals Corporation’s vanadium ore-roasting operation.


Unlike UMETCO, Stratcor does have a factory building, where day and night smokestacks belch out something that smells like burnt sugar mixed with scorched hair. Years ago, Stratcor and UMETCO were the same company called Union Carbide. People who have lived in this neighborhood since childhood still refer to Union Carbide, not so much in bitterness as in tones of resignation. They do not recognize the name-change, perhaps because that is the only thing that has changed here.
The Stanage neighborhood is named for the original family in the area. The Stanage home -- a beautiful stone structure with cathedral windows -- overlooks UMETCO’s landfill. Mr. Stanage passed away last month after a ten-year battle with lymphoma. Some years ago, at a community meeting at Lakeside School, he had expressed concern about the creek that runs between his property and the houses along Stanage Terrace. He said that he wanted it cleaned up.
“We’d like to move, but who would buy our house?” says Don*, as his wife Grace* cradles their newborn grandchild. Their Stanage Terrace home, its porch sill covered in quartz crystals and potted flowers, has a small tomato patch out back. But ever since his wife was diagnosed with gastrointestinal cancer, Don hauls in dirt for the garden. They do not trust the soil here.

“The lady across the street has the same type cancer as mine,” says Grace, a petite, soft-spoken woman with a sad smile. “The lady next door died of cancer.” Don, a bear of a man, stands behind her and shrugs. “We’re tired of fighting them,” he says. “We’ve been to some meetings, but…” his voice trails off.
A meeting held in nearby Lakeside Baptist Church in September saw UMETCO’s consultants describe no cause for concern. Since that meeting, efforts to test Indian Springs Creek, which runs from under the landfill site directly behind Don and Grace’s home, found alarming levels of heavy metals, magnesium, and barium flowing into a bay of Lake Catherine. Despite a 2008 fine accruing at the rate of $500 per day, no money is being collected from UMETCO by Arkansas’ Department of Environmental Quality. The fine stands at $600,000 and counting, and if collected, would go to a “remediation fund,” according to ADEQ’s director Teresa Marks.



Over on Stanage Drive, a sign along the narrow street warns of “Deaf Children Playing.” Back in the 1960s when Ben Hunter* was growing up here, there was no landfill behind his street and nearby Malvern Avenue was just a country road. Ben and his wife Molly* have lived at the top of the hill since he returned from military service in the 1970s. Their framed wedding photos show a pair of smiling, blonde young people who, though never blessed with children of their own, took in a nephew and raised him well. Today, Ben and Molly comfort each other as best they can as each day brings pain and little else.
“When I was about 35, I started feeling aches and pains all over,” Ben explains. Doctors could not diagnose him, and just told him he was getting old. “Old?” Ben says. “I come from pioneer stock – my family never went to doctors and they all lived to be close to a hundred.” Molly, though crippled from rheumatoid and osteo-arthritis, manages to stand up and let their dog (also suffering from arthritis) into the next room. It is hard to imagine that she used to type 70 words per minute with ease. Despite Molly’s obvious condition, efforts to get her Social Security benefits for disability were unsuccessful, and now the couple subsists on Ben’s retirement.

“I never wanted to retire,” says Ben, an electrician by trade. “But the pain got so bad, I couldn’t ride in the truck.” He was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer, and begins treatment in January. “It’s too late for us,” Ben murmurs, “But if we’ve been poisoned, it might not be too late for other, younger folks.”

Next door, a couple in their late thirties both developed heart trouble and now have several stents. On the other side of Ben and Molly’s place, where Ben’s mother and stepfather once lived until they too passed away (after a host of medical issues including arthritis, polyps, and COPD), lives a woman who depends on an oxygen tank to breathe. Across the street, a family with young children has also experienced baffling medical problems.


 During a recent visit to Indian Springs Creek for more photographs of the oddly colored stream, a reporter noticed a group of well-dressed men in a gravel parking area next to the landfill. Noting the absence of signage, the reporter approached and asked if this place was UMETCO, and if the men present were PC&E commissioners (state law requires the public be notified of any PC&E gathering). Instead of an answer, the reporter got the police called on her, but left before officers arrived.

UMETCO Minerals Corporation reports that the company has invested $40 million in “reclamation” of the old mining sludge landfill site. Despite their investment, the company remains out of compliance with state water quality standards, so UMETCO is now petitioning Arkansas’s Pollution Control and Ecology Commission to lower state standardsTammy* opens the door to a home filled with the sounds of Christmas – music plays while two little girls wrap presents, chattering excitedly. A Chihuahua scampers beneath the kitchen table. Tammy says that her husband, a salesman that travels during the week, began having aches and pains immediately after their move to Stanage Drive in 2000. His symptoms worsen during his time at home and lessen when he is on the road. Doctors prescribed allergy medicines, which did no good. “He even bought a new car because the doctors thought there might be chemicals off-gassing from his car upholstery or something,” says Tammy. But nothing seems to help. “We’ve thought about trying to sell and move,” Tammy sighs, “but we’ve invested a lot in this place.”

Later, a Fox 16 News reporter confirmed that it was a UMETCO meeting, and indeed they were PC&E commissioners. But the only sign posted at the location is of rusty yellow metal that reads, simply: DEAD END.