the first time I saw Picher, OK was more than 23 years ago. I was shocked at the piles of mining debris -- called chat, I later learned. My husband -- then my boyfriend, who had grown up near Picher, just shrugged it off. I demanded to know why the mine hadn't been forced to clean it up. I still wonder why we, the taxpayers of this country, have to continue to clean up for an industry that lined its pockets with money on the blood, sweat and health of every day working men and families.
I ran across this article today -- great story -- but it brought to the surface that rage and shock I felt in December 1984 when we drove through Picher.
Back in My Day
11 months ago