Environmental Degradation: Part I
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Environmental Degradation: Part I
Is the “Rape of Appalachia” still pertinent?
By Shane Gilreath
[email protected]
The Appalachian region is often celebrated for its serene beauty and deep cultural resilience, but it has equally been historically viewed as a sacrificial zone – a red-headed stepchild, to use a regional colloquialism – for industries long connected with environmental degradation, a term that has been bandied about a lot lately in light of the proposed landfill and transfer station in Winfield and North Oneida and the societal uprising the proposal has caused. Though many behind that particular endeavor reside within the region – including Cleveland, Tennessee-based Knox Horner, who has been the face of the proposition, as well many of the players in Roberta Landfill Phase II – the rape of the region, a phrase coined by a 1962 piece in the Atlantic, originally began as a system of wealthy businessmen who created a no-give and all-take system that relied on regional labor, removed valuable resources, and pocketed the mighty dollar. In those early years, those companies were largely outsiders. While some of those industrialists built lives in and gave significantly back to communities – the Vanderbilts in North Carolina, the Stearns family in nearby Kentucky, and the Carnegies across the area – recent developments must leave us to ponder: is ‘the rape of Appalachia’ still strictly a business of outsiders? In Tennessee and Kentucky, who have been at the forefront of the Scott County landfill fight, leftover environmental hardships caused by some of those industries – coal, landfills, and waste companies at large – could soon reach crisis levels, affecting the land, water, wildlife, and public health. For some of those industries, the pinch continues to be felt long after they are gone. For others, that pinch is just beginning.
As an example of this, while coal has long played an important and undeniable role in America – and has for decades – it has also redefined the geography of the region. Strip and mountaintop removal mining (MTR), which were practiced in Tennessee and Kentucky, including Scott County, has stripped away over a combined 500 mountains, buried more than 2,000 miles of waterways, and encompassed a mass of 1.2 million acres, an area that is larger than the state of Rhode Island and part of Delaware combined. As a result, these practices have disrupted ecosystems, increased flooding risks, and left in its wake arsenic (which also occurs in landfills) and selenium, which, while naturally occurring, is toxic when consumed in large amounts via contaminated food and water. Forestlands and waters, which are vital to the survival of the region’s endangered species— many of them, like the Indiana bat, northern long-eared bat, and gray bat are closer in proximity than one might realize —are being lost, in part, due to the practices of these industries.
Equally troubling is the toxic legacy of coal ash, the dangers of which SCN reported in August. The ash, which has also been a concern of local organization Cumberland Clear, is a by product of coal-fired power generation with the United States producing nearly 100 million tons of coal ash per year. “We are already getting coal ash on dump trucks,” Kathy Obrusanszki, president of that organization, charged at an August Cumberland Clear meeting. “Now, we’re going to be getting it by train loads.” Obrusanszki’s concern stemmed as the second landfill encroaches on Scott County, but the industrial by product has long been a concern for the EPA across Appalachia. Coal ash is often stored in unlined ponds or disposed of in Class I landfills, which could come in, via rail-to-truck transfer station, as Obrusanszki cited, within a football field’s length of Winfield Elementary, and while Tennessee implemented new regulations for coal ash permits in 2025, those guidelines are often weaker than preferred and enforcement of them limited.
Making matters worse, a 2019 Environmental Integrity Project report found that 91% of U.S. coal plants contaminate surrounding groundwater with unsafe levels of toxic metals—including arsenic, mercury, lithium, and radium. According to the EPA, these same concerns are paramount when coal ash is dumped, especially when improperly managed, with sites containing carcinogens and neurotoxins. A 2007 EPA risk assessment concluded that people living near unlined coal ash ponds face a 1 in 50 risk of cancer from arsenic exposure through contaminated drinking water—2,000 times higher than what the EPA considers acceptable. These are particular concerns when considering that the existing landfill, Volunteer Regional, has reported major violations as recently as February 2025, including failures in the liner of the evaporation tank that had resulted in leachate – a component produced when water percolates through waste material known to produce environmental risks – being released into a pond. While Volunteer Regional did not leach coal ash, the violations demonstrate a certain flippancy that can occur when waste management drops its guard or when such sites are improperly managed. It’s a scary business leaving locals highly dependent on others to maintain community safety. In fact, a 2016 Duke University study found elevated levels of heavy metals in nearby rivers and fish downstream from coal ash sites, and a 2018 study published in Environmental Health Perspectives found a statistically significant increase in lung, bladder, and kidney cancers in populations living near coal ash landfills and waste impoundments.
What does this mean for Scott County? What does it mean for Appalachia-at-large? SCN will explore the issue in a multi-part series on environmental degradation, examining the toll of industry in Appalachia.
