VICTORIA’S STORY

To be honest, I nearly lost my mind when my neighbor told me an oil and gas waste treatment facility was going to be built nearby. The location was to be on a swampy piece of land two miles away. Their discharge point would be a tiny, unnamed tributary of our Burdick Creek. The tributary meanders across a pasture with beef cattle then downhill through another pasture with dairy cows. It then enters the waters of Burdick Creek and passes through the yards of eight homes. Farther downstream, the creek water will be withdrawn for fracking operations. Our creek is to be their filter.

We have been asked to be the “sacrifice zone” by our elected officials and the gas industry. Our local government cowers before the gas company or becomes one of their tools. Our township supervisors and our planning commission both gave their approval minus one planning commissioner who quit just before the required vote. He could not vote “yes,” so he quit. All the rest lined up like good little worker ants….marching one by one to the steady beat of the drill.

They want it all, no rock unturned, no limits. I don’t wear the coat of that army. I never will. I serve the valley, the wildlife, the majestic old Hemlocks on the slopes. We’ve adjusted our dream life of living here in a peaceful valley with our neighbors, neighbors who have all left. So it is the animals, the creek that I protect.

Finding beauty, peace, hope is my daily mantra. I walk the road that runs beside Burdick Creek nearly every day. I am welcomed, greeted, on most occasions by a brilliant white red-tailed hawk. She claimed the valley as her home about five years ago. She saw me through some tough days after my parents passed, 12 days apart. She gives me hope when I am feeling down, worried about the price we pay for living in a shale field.