 Waste unfortunately is an inevitable part of humans existing on the blue and green ball thing we call home. It's hard to argue against that we've done some damage. I know Mother Earth will eventually fling us off like a monkey picking a flea. Anywho, one such example of mankind defecating on its own doorstep was the Love Canal. It's widely regarded as the initiating event that created the Superfund. Or as I like to call it, the plainly difficult content mind. My search for new and exciting ways we've buggered things up aside, the Superfund program's beginnings can also be attributed to today's subject, the Valley of the Drums. Yes, I know it sounds like an ancient burial ground for Kings Long Forgotten. I mean I wish it was, but you are watching a plainly difficult video after all. So instead it was a big old dumping ground for toxic chemicals. Juicy content aside, this story very appropriately shows the reason why landfills need proper regulation. So my name is John and welcome to plainly difficult. So ever since my video on the Love Canal disaster I've received requests for this video. And can I just point out that the Love Canal video was all the way back in May 2020. Anywho, a nearly 4 years later, here we are. So this video will be based off various reports and papers published by the EPA, as well as some other contemporary newspapers and the like. And as always the linkies will be in the description below. So sit back, relax, and for the love of it all is high and mighty, don't touch the rusty waist barrels. Background So our story is about this place, here, just a few miles away from Louisville, Kentucky. It's located in North Bullitt County. It is a 23 acre site, and is owned by this guy, Mr. Taylor. I don't actually have a picture of him, so I took some artistic license to create our own Mr. Taylor. It's much like the rest of Bullitt County, in that it's got some steep slopes, thus creating valleys. It's the mid 1960s and Mr. Taylor can see dollar signs, his unused tract of land has presented itself as a potential moneymaker. That is a dump site. Not only that, but an unlicensed and unregulated dump site. Taylor was willing to take on anything and everything to dispose of on his site. This made his operation rather popular with some of the more toxic rubbish producers. I should say that being unlicensed wasn't necessarily a big of a deal at the time, as dumping laws were rather lax in the 1960s. His biggest customers were from the paints and coatings industries based around Louisville. Soon enough, drum upon drum of waste arrived on his dump site and quickly started stacking up. During the early years of the dump, which as the EPA would state is starting in 1967, Taylor found another little side hustle selling off the used drums for scrap. But what to do with the contents of those drums? Well, Taylor had a cunning plan. He would dig a hole. A really big hole. And pour the sweet, tasty and totally safe material out into it. This simple and ingenious plan allowed Taylor to scrap out the drums. But to a surprise to absolutely no one, Taylor didn't line the excavations with any protective coverings, allowing the toxic material to permeate into the soil and eventually to the groundwater. Nothing good was in those drums, as an estimated 140 chemicals made their way into the soil, including polychlorinated biphenyls, which was a carcinogen. Now, the unlicensed chemical dump site didn't go unnoticed after Taylor was caught burning solvents. Contaminating the ground was clearly not enough for him. The Kentucky Department of Environmental Protection, or KDEP, ordered the burning to stop, which resulted in the pits being filled in with soil from the valley. The filled in pits began the foundation for drum storage out in the open, which caused leakages as they degraded and rusted away. Neighbours of the dump site frequently reported strong pungent chemical odours coming from within. In 1975, the Kentucky Department for Environmental Protection began legal proceedings against Taylor. After a release of heavy metals and carcinogenic chemicals into the nearby Wilson Creek was found, Taylor had a cunning ace up his sleeve, which allowed him to dodge your responsibility, and that was dying in 1977. At least the dump site stopped taking in more waste after Taylor's stopping of being alive. Now, the site had no known owner, causing a somewhat awkward legal situation, which would slow down any hopes of the cleanup, although eventually potential responsible persons were found. Funding of any cleanup would be difficult. Plainly difficult. For another two years, the chemicals would seep into the groundwater, be washed off by rainfall and sink deep into the soil around the dump site. Now, during this time, the EPA was aware of the chemical catastrophe that was just happening in Kentucky, and at the request of KDEP, would undertake surveys of the dump site. The EPA would end up doing some emergency works to slow down the chemical release, as stated in the EPA record of decision. By constructing interceptor trenches and a temporary water treatment system, securing leaking drums and segregating and organising drums on site. During the emergency work, the EPA tested the site and found this list of chemicals. The work the EPA had done so far was not the be-all and end-all, and thus, a more permanent solution was needed. Cleanup. So the site was home to tens of thousands of drums of chemicals. By the 1980s, the site had degraded further still, and started in 1981, the EPA led a cleanup program of removing and disposing of the drums. This took nearly eight years over four removal actions. The drainage system was updated and handed over to KDEP to manage and maintain. But although a large amount of the contamination had been removed, nothing had been done about the thousands of tons of buried chemicals and drums. This would require a new plan. Multiple options were suggested in the 1986 record of decision, including complete removal and disposal of the material, either on site or off site. But the option preferred was to keep the material on site and contain it. This would involve a perimeter drainage system, a program of soil monitoring, wells for groundwater monitoring, and importantly, a clay cap to stop runoff. All of which would be fenced and gated off from public access. Now, this would cost, in the 1980s, an estimated $795,000, just for the clay cap design and install alone. So who was to pay? Well, this is what would lead to the super fund. You see, after Taylor had died, tracking down anyone able to pay was very difficult. Essentially, this left the EPA holding the bag. This, and along with other waste sites, led the federal government to seek an alternative way to pay for clean up works. This would be the Comprehensive Environmental Response Compensation and Liability Act of 1980, or CIRCLA, which placed sites requiring remediation on a national priorities list, which would be funded by the super fund. Now, there's a lot more to it, but that will be maybe for another video for me to describe. So remediation at the valley of the drums would continue into the 1990s, with a site being removed for the national priorities list in 1996. Even though, off the list, issues continued right up until 2008, when more waste was discovered just off site, also requiring removal. KDEP continues to maintain the drainage and monitoring system till this day, and regular checks are done on the clay cap, and so far, it mostly looks okay. The site is still fenced off from the public, and thankfully so far, no contamination has migrated into nearby Wilson Creek. Amazingly, there has not been a massive human cost. Nearby properties don't use their wells due to poor yield, and because of this, many are linked up to the municipal water. The valley of the drums became less known compared to the Love Canal disaster, which happened around the same time. This is because, well, the human cost. A whole suburb didn't need to get relocated, and as such, it was much easier to forget. The environment was still pretty damaged, requiring a lot of money to fix, and it could have been far worse if left to decay. It does highlight the risks of unmanaged dump sites. Luckily, with the valley of the drums, it was contained, but at a cost. So, what did you get on your bingo card? This is what I've got, and I'll put the value of the drums on a number two on my disaster scale. Do you agree? I'd like to say thanks to Art from Gamer from Mars for his cameo. These are the plainly foot production. All videos on the channel, creative commons, attribution, share light, licensed. Plainly foot videos produced by me and John are currently very cold corner of southern London, UK. I don't know if you can tell, but I've got a pretty nasty cold at the moment, and as such, my voice is sounding pretty haggard. But anyway, I'd like to thank my Patreon and YouTube members for your financial support. And all that's left to say is thank you, Miss. Thank you for watching, and Mr Music, place out please.