http://www.denverpost.com/news/ci_28699807/silverton-san-juan-county-seek-federal-funds-after

I’ve been in some truly awful mines and I fully support, and have participated in, the clean up efforts.

In the mid-’70s a sinkhole opened up under a open pit phosphate mine in Florida’s “boneyard” district, east of Tampa. Close to a square mile of water several feet deep drained down into the aquifer. The water (phosphate ore is moved around as a slurry) was filled with phosphate ore in suspension, as well as several other noxious substances (including Uranium and Radium, which are present in that ore in commercially recoverable concentrations. Phosphate tailings are so toxic they are not allowed to be used as material for cinder blocks because of the Radon gas they generate.

The pits (large excavations dug up by immense draglines) are surrounded by barbed wire fences and berms planted with pines so unless you actually live in the area, you have no idea what’s going on behind them. Access to the pits is through roads guarded by gates and rent-a-cops. An outsider can drive the local roads all day and not realize he’s in the middle of an active strip mining operation spread out over a hundred square miles. But from the air, its a World War I No Man’s Land landscape. As kids, we used to sneak into the pits all the time and look for fossils; the phosphate strata are the relic of an ancient sea and are rich in shark teeth (including that 30-ft prehistoric Great White), dugong ribs, skate and crocodile teeth, and other goodies.

My company was commissioned to document the disaster, and flew numerous photo missions over the pit. I remember the pictures distinctly, every bit of water had drained out, and we got some great shots of bulldozers scurrying around the hole trying to fill it up with overburden before anyone figured out what was going on. Meanwhile, people on the Gulf Coast, as far away as Sarasota, were complaining about how their tap water was coming out milky white. It was all over the evening news, but no one seemed to know why it was happening.

But I knew. So after much soul-searching and hand-wringing, I called a friend who worked for the Water Management District to do a little whistle blowing. I learned that the authorities not only knew about the incident, but were working hand-in-hand with the phosphate companies to keep it secret. Phosphate mining in the boneyard (explosives, fertilizers, phosphoric acid, industrial chemicals) is big business in the Sunshine State. The Governor in Tallahassee probably had our photography on his desk. I was warned to keep my mouth shut if I knew what was good for me.

I had just quit my previous job as a public relations shill for the Atomic Energy Commission and the nuclear power industry. This new incident just drove home everything I had learned on that gig. I consider it one of the major episodes in my education. Yeah, there’s plenty of blame to go around. I often wonder if anyone died because I was afraid to speak out.

Podrock is a geologist, who has worked in the mining industry for more than 20 years. And I am very disappointed this happened. Better planning and a more cautious approach would have prevented this disaster.