One night in 1954, twin brothers Jim and John LeBret were prospecting on the Spokane Reservation with a Geiger counter and mineral light. Shortly after midnight, their Geiger counter roared to life. On Spokane Mountain, they had discovered rocks with a fluorescent green glow. The brothers, members of the Spokane Tribe, staked the first uranium claim on the reservation. By December of that year, the Midnite Mine shipped its first load of uranium ore to a Salt Lake City processing plant. It was the beginning of "uranium fever" on the reservation.
Becky Kramer
The Spokesman-Review
For nearly three decades, uranium was a booming industry on the reservation. At its height, about 500 people drew paychecks from the mines and their ore processing facilities.
Becky Kramer
The Spokesman-Review
Connie LeBret was hired at the Midnite Mine in her 20s. "A lot of people worked at those mines," she said. "It was really a good time because everyone had a job and had money to do things."
Over the past 30 years, Harold Campbell, volunteer gravedigger, has helped prepared the final resting spots for hundreds of the tribe's members. Death is a familiar presence to Campbell, who sits with grieving families and blesses burial plots with the fragrant smoke of sage and sweetgrass. Yet one aspect troubles him: Too many Spokane Indians die from cancer. "I watch them die, young and old," Campbell said. "I think it's caused by the radiation."
Becky Kramer
The Spokesman-Review
Campbell spent his early years in Uranium City, a collection of houses and trailers that sprung up down the road from Dawn Mining's Ford mill site, where the ore was processed. As a kid, he played in the dust underneath the haul trucks. His dad, a millwright, collected ore samples for Campbell and his older brother. "Dad used to bring home some of those pretty green rocks," said Campbell, 53. "We didn't know there was a problem."
Becky Kramer
The Spokesman-Review
The Midnite Mine site needs extensive remediation, according to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, which crafted the plan. Two open pits remain at the mine. Five other pits were filled in with "really nasty stuff" that's polluting the groundwater, Connolly said. Towering waste rock piles litter the mine site. The haul roads were built with radioactive gravel.
Becky Kramer
The Spokesman-Review
Nearly 3 million tons of uranium ore were blasted out of these hillsides. Visitors can stand at the top of Pit No. 3 and look down 500 feet to the pit's bottom, which is covered with sparkling turquoise water.
Becky Kramer
The Spokesman-Review
Under orders from the federal government, Dawn Mining collects and treats water from the site before pumping it into Blue Creek, a tributary of the Spokane River. The treatment removes radioactive materials and heavy metals. But the tribe's monitoring indicates that pollution levels are still high enough to kill aquatic insects in Blue Creek, Randy Connolly, the Spokane Tribe's Superfund coordinator, said.
Becky Kramer
The Spokesman-Review
The federal government recommends spending no more than one hour a day at the mine site to limit exposure to radiation and radon gas. People shouldn't eat berries or plants gathered from the Blue Creek drainage where the mine is located, or fish from the creek, according to the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry. Meat from deer and elk that forage in the drainage could also pose health risks, the study said.
Becky Kramer
The Spokesman-Review
The Environmental Protection Agency ran models, assessing how people's cancer risk would increase if they lived at the Midnite Mine for 70 years, or gathered plants, hunted game and drank surface water from the site as part of a subsistence lifestyle. An individual who lived off the land at the mine site, for example, would have a 1 in 5 probability of getting cancer, according to the modeling. The model was based on 70 years of exposure to pre-cleanup conditions.
Becky Kramer
The Spokesman-Review
Tribal activist Deb Abrahamson's focus is gradually shifting. Instead of lobbying for cleanup, she's starting to work on safety for future cleanup workers. Through the lure of paychecks and steady employment, the cleanup will have parallels to the original uranium rush. "Those jobs are going to look very lucrative to this generation," Abrahamson said. This time around, she want wants to ensure that workers have proper protective gear and know the risks. Otherwise, another generation could be exposed to radiation, Abrahamson said.
Becky Kramer
The Spokesman-Review