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When we first arrived, I felt it was hard to grasp what we were seeing, but after standing quietly and observing, things came into perspective. We were looking at deserted streets with evidence of the humans that once lived there. Street curbs, hand-made stone barriers, front steps, tipped telephone poles, trees and annual flowers now blooming that were planted by human hands. Graffiti highway, an iconic reminder of what happened has been buried, but graffitti has emerged elsewhere and everywhere. Along with the graffiti, there is garbage that people feel free to dump in town. Piles of tires lined on abandoned road as a reminder that people have passed through, leaving yet another remnant of our careless regard for the environment.
The landfill created by the town had become too full, in an effort to make more room, it was set on fire, unknowingly, the mine shaft below it had not been sealed off and the coal seam caught fire. With an immeasurable amount of fuel (anthracite) and oxygen from open mining shafts, the fire could not be extinguished. It still burns today. Think about that for a bit and ponder that we, as humans, have done this. All for a bit more landfill room.
