Words From The Warden
Big Muskie
Last Sunday, St. Luke’s parishioner Danyelle Phelps led an exceptional Coffee: Grounds for Discussion on environmental justice. Her presentation was timely, sobering, hopeful, and truly eye-opening.
Through her remarks and on-screen notes, Danyelle thoughtfully connected three key dimensions of the topic:
the political;
the practical; and
the spiritual.
It was a compelling and memorable presentation. Thank you, Danyelle
Earlier this week, I traveled to Cumberland, Ohio, to explore a potential restoration project. The plan is to convert the town’s former bank and post office into a four-unit bed-and-breakfast, and our painting company may join the team bringing the property back to life.
Cumberland lies in a region once transformed by destructive strip mining across southeastern and south-central Ohio. Today, the community sits between two remarkable destinations:
Jesse Owens State Park, Ohio’s newest state park; and
The Wilds, a 10,000-acre conservation center.
When I was in fifth grade, I learned everything I could about strip mining and the devastated landscapes it left behind. From the 1940s through the 1980s, Ohio was home to some of the world’s most productive surface coal-mining operations.
To reach the high-sulfur brown coal beneath the rolling hills of east-central Ohio, AEP’s Central Ohio Coal Company used Big Muskie, the largest dragline excavator ever built. Manufactured in Bucyrus, Ohio, this immense machine had:
A bucket capable of holding 220 cubic tons of material—large enough to contain two Greyhound buses;
A total weight of 12,200 tons; and
An electric-hydraulic system that used as much electricity each day as 27,000 homes.
As a child, I felt both awe and fear as I learned about this incredible machine and the terrible waste it left behind.
Although landowners were compensated for the purchase of their property, they could not have anticipated the upheaval that would follow. Farms ceased to be viable, and families moved away.
Mining stripped away the topsoil to expose the coal beneath. The newly exposed subsurface produced acidic runoff that polluted groundwater, leaving the entire region looking like another planet. That devastation stirred in me a lasting concern for what had happened to our beautiful earth.
By the mid-to-late 1970s, conditions began to change. The Ohio and federal EPAs started enforcing laws that required mined land to be reclaimed. In 1977, the Clean Air Act made high-sulfur coal less desirable.
By the mid-1980s, the 20-story Big Muskie had been dismantled and sold for scrap. Today, only its bucket remains at Miners’ Memorial Park near Caldwell, Ohio.
Today, our air is cleaner because high-sulfur coal is no longer widely used and because of other environmental improvements. Legislation and greater public awareness have also helped improve water quality.
Most remarkably, land once ravaged by strip mining now supports a beautiful state park, private parks, and the 10,000-acre Wilds. There, endangered animals find habitat while researchers from around the world study ecology, deepen our understanding, and improve our lives.
Danyelle reminded us that when God finished creation, He looked upon all He had made and saw that it was “very good.”
Martin Luther King Jr. popularized a principle expressed by Theodore Parker in 1863: “The arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Yet that arc does not bend on its own; it requires deliberate human action and sustained moral effort.
Perhaps God sees the good in what we have done—and calls us to continue the work.
Peace,
Henry Zaborniak, Senior Warden