State Considers Lifting Ban to Extract Farm's
Uranium Mother Lode Oct 21 - The Virginian-Pilot
Coles Hill is the name of a historic farm here in Pittsylvania County, a
quiet place off a dirt road with a stately brick home overlooking tangled
hedge rows and rolling fields.
It also is the site of one of the largest uranium deposits in the United
States, and the biggest ever discovered on the East Coast.
As much as 110 million pounds of uranium ore could lie beneath these gentle
hills where cattle now graze and tobacco once reigned. The value of this
radioactive deposit, based on current market prices: about $10 billion.
Walter Coles lives in the old manor atop this potential bonanza, just as his
relatives have for the past 200 years. The groundwater from which he drinks
is suspected of being high in radon, a potentially hazardous gas, and the
bricks that make up his home register higher than normal levels of
radioactivity.
"Somehow we've managed just fine these past five generations," Coles said
with a wry chuckle last week during a tour of his farm in a pickup.
Along with neighbors, family and friends, Coles has formed a company,
Virginia Uranium Inc., and hired geologists and professionals, who work in a
small office in Chatham, the Pittsylvania County seat. They hope to persuade
local, state and federal officials to allow all uranium buried beneath Coles
Hill to be mined, milled and sold to nuclear power plants.
It is an enormous project full of promise and pitfalls, but one that Gov.
Timothy M. Kaine is at least willing to study.
In his Virginia Energy Plan released this summer, the governor suggested
that, in the name of greater energy independence and cleaner-burning fuels,
the Pittsylvania County option remain on the table -- at least for now.
Before any mining could occur, Virginia lawmakers would have to drop their
ban on uranium extraction, imposed 25 years ago after another company
attempted to tap Coles Hill.
That company, Marline Uranium Corp., backed largely by Canadian investors
and chemical giant Union Carbide, eventually dropped its bid and sold its
mineral leases because of fierce opposition and sagging mineral prices.
Renewed interest in mining today also faces an armada of concerned
residents, environmentalists and public-health advocates.
Opponents are lining up to scrutinize the project, fearing increased cancer
risks among mine workers and neighbors, diminished property values, a bad
image for Southside Virginia, as well as the potential for radioactive
pollution of groundwater, air quality and local streams and rivers.
"Our preference is that Virginia just stay away from all of this," said Rick
Parrish, a senior attorney with the Southern Environmental Law Center in
Charlottesville.
"Uranium might be stable in the ground in rock form," Parrish said, "but
when you pulverize it, you open up the whole thing to all kinds of potential
problems and questions."
Mike Town, state director of the Sierra Club, was more succinct.
"It's just nuts," Town said. "I mean, uranium mining? In Virginia?"
The operation would be the first commercial uranium mine east of the
Mississippi River and would require construction of an industrial mill
nearby.
Inside the mill, hard rock would be smashed to bits, thus freeing the
coveted uranium ore, known as "yellow cake," because of its color and
texture.
Sandy wastes, called "tailings," would be collected at the mill, stored on
site and likely reburied. Tailings harbor some radioactivity, as well as
other heavy metals, and are what environmentalists worry about most.
The yellow cake would be packed into 55-gallon drums and trucked out of
Pittsylvania County, probably to Illinois and then Kentucky, where the
powdery ore would be converted and enriched into nuclear fuel rods.
Such rods are the catalysts for producing energy at Virginia's two nuclear
power plants, in Surry and North Anna, as well as others across the country.
As the United States grapples with global warming and its reliance on fossil
fuels, nuclear power is experiencing something of a renaissance. The Bush
administration is supporting the shift, offering tax incentives and
fast-track licensing.
While no new commercial plant has been built in America since the 1970s, at
least 29 nuclear projects have been proposed in recent years, including the
prospect of constructing one new reactor, and maybe two, at the North Anna
power station northwest of Richmond.
Dominion Virginia Power, the state's largest electric utility, operates the
North Anna and Surry stations. Asked about possible uranium mining in the
state, a corporate spokesman was ambivalent.
"We are trading in the world market for fuel and able to secure uranium at
competitive prices to help keep our costs down for our customers," Jim
Norvelle, a Dominion spokesman, said in a statement. "It's hard to know
right now whether having a uranium mine in Virginia would be economic for
us."
In recent years, Coles said he has been approached by uranium companies from
Canada, Australia, France and other nations, all asking if he would sell his
mineral rights. Canada and Australia are two of the world's largest
producers of uranium ore, and France is a leading user of nuclear power.
Instead, Coles said, he decided to "keep this a Virginia effort" and began
organizing his own mining company. A 2001 study by Virginia Tech, which
confirmed that the deposit is neither moving nor leaching underground, also
motivated Coles to start his own company.
Coles, who says he is "approaching my late 60s," is retired after working
for years as a foreign service officer for the U.S. government.
To renew political interest in uranium, Coles got some well-connected help
-- namely, from his brother-in-law, Whitt Clement, a former state delegate
and Virginia transportation secretary under former Gov. Mark R. Warner.
According to state Sen. Frank Wagner, R-Virginia Beach, Clement asked him to
include uranium mining in Wagner's 2006 energy bill. The bill at first did
not mention uranium. But after hearing from Clement, whom Wagner described
as an old friend and colleague, "I decided to put in an amendment," the
senator said.
When the bill passed last year, a section that endorsed a study of possible
uranium mining in Pittsylvania County remained in the text -- and later
became part of the Virginia Energy Plan, which Kaine announced this summer.
There are two Norfolk connections to the mining project.
Coles' sister, Sarah Coles McBrayer, who lives in Norfolk, owns half of the
mineral rights at the family estate. And Norfolk businessman Harvey Roberts
is a member of Virginia Uranium Inc.'s board of directors, a seat that Coles
McBrayer asked him to fill.
The president and CEO of Virginia Uranium Inc. is Norman Reynolds, a
Canadian geologist now living in Chatham. Reynolds led efforts to mine Coles
Hill in the 1980s.
In an interview last week, Reynolds recalled how prospectors first
discovered uranium in Pittsylvania County more than 25 years ago.
Reynolds and others were intrigued by a long geological scar called the
Chatham Fault, which extends piecemeal from Northern Virginia into North
Carolina. Hired crews criss-crossed the fault line in cars, holding devices
out the windows that detect radioactivity.
When driving past Coles Hill, the radiation levels "suddenly got very high,"
Reynolds said, "so we stopped and started looking around." They found rocks
in roadside ditches that, when measured, also shot readings off the chart.
"We knew we'd found a winner," he said.
Uranium mining in the United States has been conducted almost exclusively in
dry, Western states. Today, the focus is mostly in Wyoming, Texas, Utah and
Nebraska, industry officials said.
The industry's early history, dating to the 1950s, is disastrous, filled
with horror stories about sickened workers, homes built from uranium
tailings that led to cancer deaths, and failing lagoons that leaked
radioactive wastes into public waterways.
Coles and others insist that those bad days are long gone and that the
industry has become smarter and safer with advances in environmental
technology and worker safety.
While acknowledging advancements, critics say Coles is missing a crucial
point -- that the East Coast is vastly different from the West, from the
weather to the natural environment, and that mining here is untested and too
risky.
"Uranium never has been mined in such a densely populated area like this,"
said Eloise Nenon, who helped to organize the group Southside Concerned
Citizens 25 years ago and is helping to jump-start the group now.
"The water table is higher here," Nenon said. "It's wetter, more humid. The
trucks they use are enormous, and where are we going to put them? The risks
of radiation and water pollution could be catastrophic. "
Coles dismissed such criticisms as "old news, based on old data." He said he
only wants to proceed with mining if a panel of experts conducts a study and
determines that it can be done safely.
He hopes the Virginia General Assembly will approve of such a study when it
convenes in January.
If researchers conclude that mining would be safe and would not adversely
harm the environment, Coles then wants lawmakers to start drafting uranium
regulations and standards, and eventually drop the state moratorium.
On this timetable, Coles said Virginia could be extracting uranium within
the next six or seven years.
"I could have sold out and moved to Florida," Coles said, "but I'm staying
here. I'd live right here with the mine just down the road. I want to make
this happen."
Scott Harper, (757) 446-2340,
scott.harper@pilotonline.com
-----
To see more of the The Virginian-Pilot, or to subscribe to
the newspaper, go to
http://www.pilotonline.com .
Copyright (c) 2007, The Virginian-Pilot, Norfolk, Va.
Distributed by McClatchy-Tribune Information Services. |