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.

Related Video: