The Real Cost of Fracking (13 page)

In the spring of 2010, Samantha and Jesse began hauling water from a friend’s well to supplement their water—for drinking and cooking, and to provide some freshwater for their dogs, cats, chickens, and pig. In 2011, they began hauling much more water—forty to fifty gallons every three to four days. But in the wintertime, the hauling was tougher because they used an outside hose to fill up their gallon jugs and went without when temperatures stayed below freezing. I wondered if they had complained to the PADEP and to the drilling company. In similar cases, bottled water is sometimes supplied for drinking, and a water buffalo is provided for all other water usage such as bathing, laundry, toilet flushing, and dishwashing. Yes, they did complain, but they were not provided with a clean water source.

Samantha and Jesse’s well water was first tested in June 2011, as a “complimentary” test from the drilling company; a predrill test was never conducted. This test and later tests done by both the drilling company and the PADEP demonstrated high methane levels as well as levels of arsenic, manganese, and iron above the maximum contaminant levels. But because there were no predrilling tests on these substances, it’s hard to say if drilling was the cause of these elevated levels in their well water. However, it is unlikely that methane levels were this high before drilling began. Before drilling started, Jesse never had a cucumber blown out of her hand while cleaning it under the faucet, and their water didn’t look like fizzy milk, which in drilling areas is often due to the presence of fine methane bubbles. According to recent research, the average methane level in water in nondrilling areas in Pennsylvania is 1.1 milligrams per liter.
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According to a test the PADEP conducted in November 2011, methane levels of Samantha and Jesse’s well water reached 14 milligrams per liter, which is above the level deemed to be safe by the US Department of the Interior.
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Samantha and Jesse moved to Bradford County with the dream of breeding Newfoundlands in the country, where the dogs would have fresh air and clean water, and plenty of space. But they also dreamed of becoming farmers: raising calves and chickens, growing their own crops, producing their own food, and making crafts for the local farmers’ markets.

When they first arrived at their new home in 2006, they had several cats and three Newfoundland adults and one puppy. Soon after that, Samantha acquired Piglet. I quickly learned that Piglet has a fierce desire to be photographed and to preach to the choir. Although I must admit that I’m not sure what Piglet was trying to say, I did enjoy taking photographs of him. Piglet now shares his shed with some of the chickens that were purchased in 2007 and kept free-range for egg and meat production. In 2009, Samantha and Jessie purchased two bull calves and raised them for meat.

During 2007 and 2008, Samantha and Jesse were in heaven: they were establishing themselves as breeders of top-notch Newfoundlands, and they were making a serious go at being farmers—and enjoying it. They bought more dogs and had litters on schedule—their breeding was going well and all the animals were healthy. But they left nothing to chance. In addition to regular health checks on all the dogs and puppies, they stayed with the pairs during breeding, ensuring good locks—when the male and female are end to end, and mating occurs—and preventing injury by literally wrapping their arms around the dogs, holding them together for fifteen to twenty minutes. To stay with the dogs as they gave birth and to watch the puppies afterward, Samantha and Jesse converted their basement into a maternity ward and added a comfy couch, a TV, and a fridge, so they could be with their dogs 24-7.

Samantha explained that some breeders leave the pups with the bitch and walk away. “They’re so large, it’s almost like raising pigs. They may lie down on two puppies and not realize it. It’s critical for the first seven days—we don’t take our eyes off of them, because it’s our livelihood. We pull the pups off mom, put them on a scale, make sure they’re gaining weight, then put them back with mom, making sure they have a good suckle [reflex].”

In the summer of 2009, Caesar, the stud they had brought with them as a puppy from Philadelphia, failed to produce litters. Previously, all six of Caesar’s breedings had resulted in successful litters. As they could not afford to have Caesar medically evaluated and tested, they continued to breed him, but finally gave up and had him neutered and adopted in June 2011. At this time, Livia, a four-year-old female that had produced normal litters up until this time, had two stillborn puppies out of a litter of six, and developed rashes on her chest and stomach, and ear infections, as did many of the other dogs. During the next two heats, she was bred but failed to become pregnant. Like Caesar, she had been one of the original breeders at the farm, and like Caesar, she was neutered and adopted.

Since then, six females and five studs—three of these five studs brought in from areas where no gas drilling has taken place—have had an unusual number of unsuccessful breeding attempts while at Samantha and Jesse’s kennel. In many of these cases, the females suffered from pseudocyesis, also known as false pregnancy, a condition that is common in bitches that are not bred after a heat cycle. For Samantha and Jesse, it was like an epidemic of pseudocyesis. “They [the dogs] were breeding, they were locking, their bellies would actually swell up,” Samantha recalled. “And when it’d come time, they’d dig, make a nest, and no puppies. These girls were even making milk. At one time, we had four adult dogs down there waiting to have puppies, and not one had a puppy.”

However, some of the dogs continued to have puppies, and this made it especially hard to point a finger at which bitch or stud might have been having fertility problems. To complicate matters, on a few occasions, outside owners brought in their own bitches to mate with Samantha and Jesse’s studs, and the females did not produce litters from these matings.

I asked Samantha about medical evaluation to determine the cause of infertility in the dogs with problems. Specifically, I wondered what some basic health screens, heavy metal screens, and hormonal assays might show. I wondered if endocrine disruptors might be one of the causes of her dogs’ breeding problems. But to rule that out, we needed to know the exact chemicals that were used in drilling and hydraulic fracturing on the nearest wells, know which chemicals returned to the surface in the wastewater, and then test for them. I was hoping that Samantha and Jesse had done some basic testing on at least some of the dogs. “I wish I would have,” Samantha explained. Because this is their business, their livelihood, she and Jesse have sacrificed a lot of energy and time for the dogs and have gone without so that the dogs and puppies could have their physical examinations and vaccinations. But with the onset of breeding problems, Samantha and Jesse’s income dropped precipitously, making their budget unbearably tight and impossible for them to spend the kind of money it would take to search for answers.

Samantha was used to belting out classic rock at nightclubs in the area, but she had recently stopped because of a constant burning in her nose and throat, a hoarseness to her voice, and a laryngitis that refuses to go away. Now she’s hoping that the break in singing will allow her voice time to recover. Jesse, who cleans houses in her spare time, has had problems with her teeth—they seem to be hardening, becoming brittle and breaking; the dentist advised bone grafts. And while she had migraines before moving here, they were now occurring more frequently and were more severe. But when she leaves town to clean houses in Grover, about twenty minutes away, she feels better. “When I get out of this air,” she says, “my nose opens up. I can breathe. I don’t feel blah, tired.” Both women have had episodes of gastrointestinal cramping, vomiting, and diarrhea after drinking the water and cooking with it. Both women have suffered drastic weight loss. Slight and frail, Jesse lost approximately thirty pounds in the past twenty months, while Samantha lost over one hundred pounds during the same time. What is striking to Samantha is that she hasn’t changed her diet—she still eats as she did before, but continues to drop pounds.

I asked if they had been to the doctor for their health problems. Because they don’t have health insurance, they avoid going to doctors unless absolutely necessary. The dogs’ health care, it seems, trumps theirs, for at least the dogs have yearly physicals and vaccines.

While we were talking, a white pickup truck drove by, and both Samantha and Jesse jumped up to get a better look. (For some reason that neither they nor I understand, drilling company workers often seem to drive white pickup trucks.) Because of the harassment that Samantha and Jesse had described previously, I certainly understand why they are vigilant whenever they see a white truck—they not only feel threatened but are also worried. They believe it may be the beginning of much more traffic to come as the drillers were building a bridge that would provide easy access to their road.

Although Newfies are known for their stoicism, I wondered how their dogs would handle the traffic and the workers. Both women said workers have driven by their place several times, stopped their white trucks, and taunted the dogs until they begin barking and fighting with each other. Samantha and Jesse have had to run out and chase the workers away. I was reminded of an experience I had in Bedford County, Pennsylvania, when I stopped to take some pictures of a storage well during another interview. A gas company worker, while illegally recording the conversation without my permission, had tried to stop me from taking photographs but explained in no uncertain terms what a good neighbor he was. After asking whether I was one of “them activists from New York,” he went on his way. Perhaps he, as well as the workers in the white truck that Samantha described, have a different view of what a good neighbor should be.

I asked Samantha if she planned to stay here, breeding dogs.

“I’m terrified,” she answered. “But do I continue? Do I spend another eight thousand dollars for dogs, bring ’em here, and make ’em sick? Do I do this, or do I just go to work for the gas company? This [dog breeding] has always been my dream. And I know of people who have moved away from a gas well, only to have a gas well put right next to them. So I don’t think there’s anywhere we can escape from this.”

Before departing, I asked to see their free-range flock. Samantha led me around to the side and back of her house, through long swaths of grass. Her Rhode Island Reds spied us and came running full speed toward Samantha, like mini velociraptors, but stopped on seeing me. Instead, they detoured to the unpaved road that winds up toward the mountain behind their coop, and they began to dig at the dirt and roll in it. Under normal circumstances, dust-bathing is a healthy behavior, performed by chickens to keep the lice and scales on their skin to a minimum. But because this particular dirt road is periodically sprayed with drilling wastewater, apparently to keep the dust down, the act of dust-bathing may be more akin to taking a toxic-chemical shower.

Samantha called to her chickens, and several ventured up to say hello. “See the one closest to the road?” she asked. “Her feathers are missing.” Not only were feathers missing, but from where I stood, the skin appeared red and inflamed. I noticed several other birds with similar featherless red patches. I looked at the dirt and grass along the side of the road: the dirt appeared clumped and hardened with a film on top, and the grass looked as if it had been misted with oil.

“They [the drillers] just did this yesterday. They’re doing it ‘complimentary,’ to keep the dust down,” Samantha said sarcastically. “We call it ‘fracking down’—they’re just fracking us. They’re just spraying the frack water everywhere.”

Apparently, the wastewater spreading has been happening for the past several months, starting in the summer of 2011, and the lesions on Samantha and Jesse’s chickens began appearing approximately one month after the spreading began. Remarkably, when the wastewater was being spread on Samantha and Jesse’s roads, the use of drilling wastewater as a dust suppressant was illegal in Pennsylvania. I informed Samantha of this, and she laughed before asking, “Who’s gonna stop ’em?”

As we walk around the back of the house, I asked about soil tests: there were none done as yet, but it was on the to-do list. I also asked about air tests. At the time of my visit, no air testing had been done, but exactly one week later, Samantha and Jesse’s air was tested. Among the chemicals detected were chloromethane, trichlorofluoromethane, 2-butanone, carbon tetrachloride, trichloroethene, and toluene. I have seen these same chemicals detected in air tests from other rural properties in intensively drilled areas in Pennsylvania. In all cases, there were no pre-drilling air tests done, making it difficult to know if gas drilling is the culprit. Yet, should we expect to find these chemicals in the countryside? Would they have been detected if the land wasn’t morphing into a gas drilling industrial zone? For now, there are no easy answers.

The view from Samantha’s backyard opens into a very large field ending at the forest’s edge. Here, Samantha and Jesse’s ten acres meet the neighbor’s land. This is where a well pad will soon sit, the well pad that will be in their sight all the time, a well pad on their back road. When I asked, “What will you do when this well goes in?” I realized that I was putting myself in her place and asking, “What would I do?”

She reminded me that one neighbor had sold his herd of cattle and bought a dump truck to start hauling water for the drilling company. “I’m not going to work for them,” she said. “There’s no way I would work for them. The way I look at it, I could live here and be killed off long term, or go to work for ’em and die off quicker! They’re not telling those guys up there on the pads hauling chemicals and getting frack water spilled on ’em the truth—they’re not telling ’em that they’re gonna get sick and die.” I’m not sure if Samantha had read the CDC National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health study saying that oil and gas workers are seven times as likely to die on the job as workers in other industries,
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but her understanding of these workers’ health was dead-on (no pun intended).