ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, July 14, 1996 TAG: 9607150094
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
SERIES: Saltville: The twon that wouldn't die
SOURCE: CATHRYN MCCUE STAFF WRITER
NOTE: Below
SALTVILLE was called a victim of new environmental laws 25 years ago. But Saltville is no ghost town - it's alive and kicking.
Twenty five years ago, Life magazine featured a story about a company town in the mountains of Southwest Virginia. The pictures were shot in black and white, in January, under overcast skies. The story was no less dismal.
Saltville was a harbinger of things to come, it said, a victim of new environmental laws that would force industries across America to shut down.Olin Chemical Corp. had announced it was closing its factory after providing jobs and stability for the community for 77 years. Saltville, the magazine suggested, was on its way to becoming "a ghost town peopled with retired people and industrial cast-offs."
It didn't.
Not when the last smokestack came down, not when the state banned fishing in the river that flows through town, not even when the federal government declared much of the sprawling industrial land a Superfund site, a designation reserved for the country's worst toxic waste dumps.
The population remains about 2,300, about the same as when Olin pulled out. Although many workers commute to their jobs, they still live in Saltville. The town has even managed to attract several industries. This year, Saltvillians are celebrating their town's centennial with a party every month, as if they want to prove to the world, and themselves, that the town is here to stay.
The town's identity runs as deep as the massive deposits of salt that lay underground. Some 13,000 years ago, woolly mammoths, giant sloths and other prehistoric animals sought out the life-giving salt. Bones and toe-prints remain in the pure clay underground, making the town a mecca for scientists from the Smithsonian and elsewhere.
The salt also attracted Indians, who used it to preserve food. Then came white settlers and 19th century entrepreneurs who extracted the salt for export, and big profit. Saltville served a vital function in the South's campaign during the Civil War and was a favorite target of Union soldiers. The town proudly retains its motto: "Salt Capital of the Confederacy."
In 1895, the salt deposits caught the attention of a British company that began using the salt as raw material for other products. Olin later acquired the plant and expanded it, eventually building the world's largest sodium chloride factory. One of Olin's products was used as fuel for the first manned mission to the moon.
As Olin prospered, so did the town. The company built the homes, the school, the waterworks, hospital and electric system. It bought football uniforms and class rings for the students. Such corporate largess fostered fierce loyalty among the townspeople, most of whom worked or had kin who worked at the plant.
In 1950, Olin started using mercury in its chemical process, discharging the waste into the North Fork of the Holston River. The dangers of "liquid silver" were unknown then. Old-timers recall shining coins with mercury, and children played with it.
By the time the environmental era dawned in the early 1970s, the mercury had done its damage. The North Fork was all but dead from Saltville down to the Tennessee line. Faced with millions of dollars to clean up its operations, Olin shut down the aging plant.
Today, the town strives to reconcile its dueling legacies. On one hand, Saltville's image as a toxic wasteland with a poisoned river persists. Although Olin has cleaned up much of its pollution, the task is far from done. Some families who suffer from cancer and other diseases believe mercury and other chemical wastes from Olin are to blame and worry about the next generation.
At the same time, many folks in town are hoping to turn Saltville into a major tourist attraction, pegged on the proposed Museum of the Middle Appalachians. Some say the multimillion-dollar project is wishful thinking, but supporters call it the best hope for Saltville's future.
The town's colorful history - from the woolly mammoth days to the Superfund cleanup - will draw thousands of tourists, they say. For now, the museum consists of an empty lot, a paid staff of two, a few drawings, and a lot of Saltville-style enthusiasm.
LENGTH: Medium: 85 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: FILE 1996. 1. William Totten stands in his basementby CNB"museum" in his house in Saltville. color. 2. This is a 1938 aerial
photograph of Mathieson Alkali Works. Saltville's massive deposits
of salt drew woolly mammoths, Indians, and industrialists to its
"magic white sand.''