Genre
Synopsis
Picher, Oklahoma is considered “the most toxic town in America” but to past residents, it’s a beloved home they were forced to leave. An industrious mining community for over 50 years, Picher produced an estimated $20 billion in lead and zinc ore from 1917 to 1947, much of it used for the bullets and bombshells of both World Wars.
In Picher’s heyday, it was home to 20,000 people. By the 1970s that number dwindled to a few thousand, along with 178 million tons of toxic “chat,” scattered around the town. These mountains of minerals, left over after the metal ore was separated, became an integral part of the community – women sunbathed on them, families picnicked atop their sandy peaks, children sledded down the steep icy hills on winter weekends.
Dust from the chat was found to contain high concentrations of lead, zinc and cadmium. The water near the town began to run red with pollution and underground excavations were unexpectedly caving in beneath houses, yards, streets and schools.
In 1983, Picher became part of the “Tar Creek Superfund Site.” In 1994, tests indicated that 43% of children in the area had elevated blood lead levels, yet little was done to mitigate the environmental dangers in the air, water and ground.
The Federal government offered buyouts to those with at-risk children. Only 20 families agreed to leave. For its lower income, working class residents, Picher provided a sense of stability. Within its dusty borders were people they knew they could count on, Friday night football games and a shared sense of values and belonging.
A tornado in 2008 destroyed much of the town and killed at least six people. Instead of sending FEMA to the heavily damaged area, the federal government sent funds to buy out Picher’s remaining residents, who felt they had no choice but to take what little money was offered and move.
Despite this forced migration and losing their houses, businesses and community, the displaced locals didn’t lose their hometown spirit. In 2014, Paula Suman and a group of six women from Picher decided to bring back the town’s Christmas parade. They didn’t know if ten people or 1,000 would show up but they booked bands, rented equipment and found an older Picher couple to play Santa and Mrs. Claus. Three-thousand people lined the ghost town’s empty streets that first year.
Nine years later, the parade remains Picher’s single day of celebration. Past residents flood the Gary Building and U.S. 69, filling the vacant land and crumbling infrastructure with singing, shouting, soaring candy, giggling babies, full body hugs and tears of longing.
The areas around Picher have lingering effects from toxicity and pollution, with one million gallons of contaminated water discharged into Tar Creek daily, killing aquatic life and turning the water orange. Despite this, most Picher natives say they would move back to the only true home they’ve ever had.
