He was the last man standing
Bienvenidos a Miami, Oklahoma, Sr.Ray
If you’ve ever had to move, you know that it can be very expensive. Boxes, tape, packing material, help moving larger items, moving van rates, gasoline – it all adds up very quickly. Then there’s the deposit or down payment on a new place. You wouldn’t be alone if you have ever sought help from pay day loans and personal loans to deal with such an undertaking.
But what happens if you’re forced to move because your entire town is being condemned? That’s exactly what happened to Orval “Hoppy” Ray in Picher, Oklahoma. He was the last resident to leave the town in the wake of many years of lead and zinc mining that have left Picher, OK one of America’s largest, most polluted toxic-waste sites.
Poisoning generations
John Sutter eloquently reports for CNN that Picher, Oklahoma was a center of lead and zinc mining for many years (until 1970) before there were many environmental safety requirements that mines had to follow. As a result, children of Picher suffered lead poisoning as the local creeks coughed up orange water, a cocktail of heavy metals. Plus, homes were built atop mine shafts. Now those abandoned mines are in danger of collapsing. Orval Ray was the last resident to leave.
There were signs of things to come. Back in 2006, the federal government announced it was going to pay people to leave Picher, Oklahoma and the nearby Tar Creek Superfund Site. That would leave room for the government to execute its toxic-waste cleanup program. They told people that their homes could collapse into the stained earth.
Aiding the war effort
Some were happy to take the money and run, but old timers like Ray, 84, wouldn’t leave without a fight. He claimed he’d die first. He’d worked the mines with his dad and brothers, mining lead that was turned into bullets for U.S. soldiers in both world wars. But once the wars were done and the last mine shut in 1970, Picher, Oklahoma began its slow slide into the grave. A recent tornado also played a significant role in making Picher what it is today.
“I thought it was important that people ought to know what Picher’s role was in two world wars,” Hoppy said. “Hell, to me, it was important. … Without the mines here in Ottawa County [Oklahoma], those wars would’ve lasted a lot longer.”
Time to go, dad
Ray’s son insisted that his father move to Miami, Oklahoma. It was only 10 miles south of Picher, but for Hoppy, it was like moving a world away. Unfortunately, there was no other option. The house he’d lived in for nearly 50 years had been slated to be condemned.
Sutter writes that “outside Picher, the mining town’s former residents are branded ‘lead heads’ and ‘chat rats.’ People wonder whether living in the polluted area made them stupid.” Hoppy has heard it all before.
Starting again
“There’s not any point in thinking about it,” he said, “because there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it — just break out, go someplace else and start all over again.”
Goodbye, Picher, Oklahoma. You served your country admirably. Unfortunately, it didn’t do the same for you. Now everyone has moved on, hopefully toward happier, healthier days. Days where you can get pay day loans and personal loans if you need them.
Yet in his dreams, Hoppy envisions the old days when Picher was a vibrant place. Ghettos of ghost towns are all that remain now. For more of Ray’s recollections, read Sutter’s article. It grants a small glimpse into an America that is dying. The bones of small towns are everywhere. If that means something to you, read the article.
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My family lived in Picher forever. Some have moved only because they had to and believe me they would rather have stayed.My Father was known as Punk last name Ware. He was well know to many. My Mom ran the A Street Bar for many years and we lived next door or in the back small apartment. All of my cousins and relatives were always close by. I will forever know Picher as HOME.God Bless everyone…Jane or Isyou my nickname…
Picher was my father’s and grandmother’s home. His father was a lead miner who died of miner’s TB in 1927. We grew up playing on the chat piles . His family goes back generations there. His grandmother ran a boarding house on Connell Ave. His mother ran a hair salon out of her house there. And his step father owned Rigg’s Auto parts store on Connell Ave. He can remember buying hot tamales from Indian Joe.
My father has lived longer than his old hometown of Picher. He is 87 years young. I am very proud of him. And will never forget Picher. We need to keep the memories and people of Picher alive and well.
Just because the government closed the town, does not erase all the memories, or it’s wonderful people.
As Hoppy dreams of Picher, so I dream of my father. Two years younger than Hoppy, he grew up in Picher, starting his working life at 8 years old as a helper to his electrician father in the mines. He watched his father march down the street between rows of machine guns in the bloody labor strikes of the 30’s …The town he described was the town of “South of Joplin”, the town that Hoppy dreams of. Like Hoppy, my father went to the War at 17. My father died in 2006, before Picher died, but on his last visit to Picher, he said “my world is gone”…On my last visit to Picher I found my young, perplexed father in his high school yearbook–he was not sure yet where he was going, but it would be out of Picher and out of Picher time. If the lead got some, well, it did not get him–he had graduate degrees and remained a deep thinker until he died. Now he is gone and Picher, my last link to him and my grandfather, my ancestors there is gone. As Hoppy dreams of Picher, so I dream of my father, who also dreamed of Picher and the world that is gone forever. To call it just a “toxic dump” is to negate all the people who lived there and the generation that remembered the life and the contributions of the town and the people who called it home.