A Trip to the Fires of Pennsylvania’s Hell

CENTRALIA -- When most college students plan a fun Saturday activity, they hit the local mall, watch a movie or eat at a nearby restaurant. That is, if they’re not my friends and me.

On Saturday, Jan. 16, we decided to do something fun to celebrate the end of the first week of spring semester classes. After much brainstorming we decided to explore Centralia, the abandoned mining town about an hour south of our school.

Centralia once was a prosperous anthracite mining town with a population in the thousands. Things started to go downhill in May 1962. The town council decided to dispose of the borough’s garbage by burning it. Even though fire fighters thought that they had extinguished the fire, flames remained underground. Within a few days, the fire hit the anthracite vein under Centralia. Despite efforts by fire fighters to put out the fire, the U.S. Department of Surface Mining installed vents coming up from the ground to release the dangerous gases.

Things were quiet until Valentine’s Day 1981 when 12-year-old Todd Domboski sank into the ground in his grandmother’s backyard. Luckily, his cousin was nearby to pull him out of the sinkhole. Domboski’s close call sparked the $50 million buyout of the town. Most residents left, but a few remain to this day, squatters in homes and land that are now owned by the government.

Besides for the remaining residents’ homes, all that remain are the abandoned municipal building, a church and two cemeteries, where my friends and I began our journey.

After parking along State Route 61, we walked into the St. Ignatius Cemetery. Despite the fact that it had snowed a few days before, there was little to no snow on the ground. Nevertheless, the ground was still soft from the snowfall, but for some reason it felt softer to me than any muddy ground ever had. Because of the underground mine fire, many of the gravestones are gradually sinking into the ground or are anything but submerged. One that still sticks in my mind has almost completely been submerged and, based on the shape of the top, is a cross. Some of the flat tombstones have separated from their base. My heart wept for the deceased whose final resting place is in this sinking cemetery.

When we got out of the car to explore the cemetery, we noticed other “tourists” heading toward a pile of rocks straight ahead, so we decided to follow their lead after walking through the cemetery. We soon found out that the rock piles were a barrier made to prevent motorists from driving down the abandoned part of PA-61. The road had to be rerouted due to sinkholes forming on the old road. 

As my friends and I walked down this abandoned stretch of highway, we were greeted by a mural of graffiti artwork.  Some told of who was there and when while others declared a love for another. Still others were not G-rated, but the most memorable for me was not only G-rated, but also the most random.  Although it was January, there was still a bit of Christmas cheer on the abandoned road in the form of a graffiti candy cane.

Not long after we ventured down the abandoned part, we found proof of why the road was closed—a large sinkhole in the center of the road with smoke seeping out of it, followed by a succession of cracks and smaller sink holes.  There was evidence of past visitors in the form of trash in the sinkholes. As we walked on Old 61, we noticed that one side of the road was more slippery than the other, which led us to believe that the fire was somewhere underneath us.

After exploring the abandoned highway, my friends and I decided to check out the area across from where we parked, the place we predicted led towards the center of town, due to the vast expanse of open space before us.  Apparently, we were not the only ones with this idea, as a group of three ATVs zoomed past us. 

Not far from the main road was another, smaller cemetery named the Odd Fellows Cemetery. As we entered the gates, more visitors arrived, only this time in a white Crown Victoria with flashing lights. As we prepared ourselves to make up a good excuse for being in the cemetery (we were working on a school project), the police car whizzed by in search of the off-roaders, who scattered in three different directions. Defeated, the officer turned around and drove back onto 61.

When we were certain the road was clear of police cars and ATVs, we continued up the road. Just over the top of a small hill, we came across two houses’ foundations.  My friend Jill found random household objects as scissors and a toilet seat. Although we wanted to explore farther, it was already dark outside, and we forgot our flashlights.  We all agreed, however, that we wanted to return to explore during daylight.

Despite the dangers of exploring a town that is on fire, I would recommend a visit to Centralia to anyone interested in history or the general oddities of life.  All you need to do is exercise some common sense and courtesy, which I have outlined below:

1. Always go with at least one other person. There is safety in numbers.
2. Wear comfortable, sturdy sneakers or hiking boots, as the ground is uneven in some spots.
3. If you plan on being there after dark, make sure each person has a flashlight and/or headlamp with extra batteries. Wear bright colored clothes or a reflective vest.
4. Never go into one of the abandoned buildings, as they may collapse
5. Do not go onto any remaining resident’s property without seeking permission first.
6. Be kind and respectful to any and all law enforcement officers you make encounter. If they tell you to leave, do so quickly and politely.

Most important of all, enjoy your visit to this little piece of Hell on Earth!     

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