Colorado To Phase Out Coal Plants In Denver Area

The Sierra Club and its allies celebrated on December 9 when the Colorado Public Utilities Commission (PUC) approved a plan by Xcel Energy, the state's largest utility, to retire seven coal-burning power plants by 2017. The plan will phase out all coal plants in the Denver area.

The seven plants, which between them generate more than 900 megawatts of coal-fired electricity, will be retired starting in 2011 and replaced by natural gas energy, which is cleaner than coal and flexible enough to allow easy incorporation of renewable energy into the mix.

The plan puts into action the Clean Air, Clean Jobs Act, passed by voters this March, that charged Xcel and the PUC with forging a comprehensive, cost-effective strategy get out in front of anticipated federal clean air and greenhouse gas regulations.

"What happened in Colorado will will establish a clear pathway for other states and progressive utilities to move from coal to cleaner, healthier energy sources, even as Washington, D.C., sits paralyzed," says Sierra Club organizer Roger Singer, below.

Oregon's Lone Coal-Fired Power Plant Slated to Close

On December 9, the Oregon Environmental Quality Commission unanimously approved a plan by Portland General Electric (PGE) to close the Boardman coal-fired power plant within ten years.

That's Sierra Club student leader Anastasia Schemkes above, giving testimony about Boardman at an Oregon Public Utility Commission (PUC) hearing earlier this year.

Closing Boardman—Oregon's only coal-fired power plant—has been the top priority of the Sierra Club's Oregon Beyond Coal campaign. PGE says that Boardman, which opened in 1977, would be the youngest U.S. coal plant to close for environmental reasons.

The Sierra Club sued PGE in 2009 for Clean Air Act violations by Boardman, and Oregon Chapter activists have been staging rallies, speaking out at public hearings, and putting the pedal to the metal to educate the public and apply pressure on the utility.

In June more than 400 people jammed a PUC hearing to discuss Boardman's future, prompting the Commission to extend the hearing by two hours and eliciting remarks from Portland Mayor Sam Adams about the "sea of Coal-Free Oregon t-shirts."

On the Road With the Water Sentinels: Part 7

We meet Missouri Water Sentinels Tom and Angel Kruzen, above, in the parking lot of the Quick Trip convenience store in Herculaneum, Missouri, on the Mississippi River 25 miles south of St. Louis. With them are Jack & Leslie Warden, below, former residents of Herculaneum, which has the dubious distinction of being home to the dirtiest lead smelter in the United States.

The two couples have been working together for years to compel the Doe Run Company, which operates the Herculaneum smelter, to clean up its act or shut down the smelter. "The level of heavy metal contamination in Herculaneum was 25 times higher than allowed by U.S. Law," Tom says. "Virtually everyone in town was poisoned."

Residents of Herculaneum have long been afflicted with high lead-blood levels and alarmingly high incidences of asthma, multiple sclerosis, birth defects, and learning disabilities. For years, locals have been sickening and dying of cancer and other illnesses like Lou Gehrig's disease and kidney failure. Jack Warden's younger brother was among the casualties.

But thanks to the persistence and tenacity of the Kruzens, the Wardens, and other citizens who weren't afraid to speak out, the Herculaneum smelter is due to close at the end of 2013, and Doe Run has been ordered to pay $65 million to correct violations of environmental laws at 10 of its lead processing facilities in Missouri.

On the Road With the Water Sentinels: Part 6

We pull into the small town of Madisonville around noon, where we meet Gene and Nancy Nettles, who've driven up from far-western Kentucky to meet us.

Gene, a former U.S. Army Colonel who did three tours of duty with the 82nd Airborne Division in Fort Bragg, North Carolina, retired from the Army to farm in Fulton County, Kentucky, on the Mississippi River in the southwestern corner of the state. Now retired from farming, he is a clean-water activist who works closely with the Sierra Club's Water Sentinels Program.

"We live about two miles from a complex of hog barns," Gene says. "It used to be our pleasure to walk in our yard in the morning and spend our evening hours out on the patio. But once those hog barns went in, it changed everything—the odor invades your home and it invades your life. It gets so bad that sometimes it's almost like you're inside the hog barn itself rather than two miles away."

The Nettles' had already witnessed the effects of industrial-scale hog farming in North Carolina. "When we left Fort Bragg, the countryside was still beautiful," Gene says. "But I went back 20 years later and the same hills and streams that my children had enjoyed were now infected with odors and waste coming from the Smithfield hog barns."

So when the announcement came that Big Pig was coming to Fulton County, Gene's reaction was, "Whoh! I've got to do something—anything—to stop this or at least ameliorate the effects it will have on our water supply and the air we breathe in our county."

Above, a hog factory with sewage "lagoons." Below, the interior of an industrial hog barn.

"We organized a small group and got over 1,000 signatures on a petition, which is pretty significant in a county of 7,000 residents," Gene says. "From that we got an ordinance to try and protect our water supply and create adequate setbacks between factories and residences for odor control."

Water Sentinels Team Up to Get More Kids Fishing

The Sierra Club Water Sentinels just announced a fantastic new partnership aimed at getting more military families outdoors and fishing.

In recognition of America's veterans and those who currently serve in the military, the Water Setinels teamed up with Recreational Boating & Fishing Foundation's (RBFF) "Take Me Fishing" campaign, the National Military Fish & Wildlife Association, and rod and reel manufacturer Zebco to distribute more than 500 rods and reels for use by families on military installations in the U.S.

"We're very excited by this partnership," said Sierra Club Water Sentinels Director Scott Dye. "Together, we're making a difference in the lives of youth by engaging them in outdoor activities and efforts to clean up and protect America's water resources."

Studies have clearly demonstrated that involving children in outdoor recreation improves school performance, reduces stress, enhances self-esteem, improves interpersonal relationships and has a positive impact on overall health. Fishing is one of the outdoor activities shown to contribute to these benefits. The rods & reels provided by this program will help introduce youth to the out-door experience.

"Supporting this program was a very natural decision for us," said Zebco President Jeff Pontius. "By providing the repurposed rods and reels to military families, we not only have the opportunity to show support for our troops, but also engage new anglers in the sport of fishing."

The rods and reels provided by this program will extend the opportunity for outdoors experiences to the nation's military youth, who may otherwise face barriers such as overseas deployment of parents.

"Our research shows that fishing is recognized as the top 'gateway' activity to other outdoor interests," said RBFF President and CEO Frank Peterson.  "We're hoping these fishing experiences will have a positive impact on families when given the opportunity to get out and enjoy one of America's favorite pastimes together."

Anyone interested in requesting these free rods and reels for kids and families at their military site should contact Tim Guilfoile of the Water Sentinels.

On the Road With the Water Sentinels: Part 5

We arrive in Owensboro, Kentucky, on the Ohio River about 100 miles downstream of Louisville, just after sundown. We make straight for the fabled Moonlite BBQ, where we gorge on their colossal buffet, including a heaping helping of Kentucky burgoo, a stew traditionally made with squirrel or opossum, nowadays made with mutton. I rue my gluttony later that night, but when in Rome…

Early the next morning we're back in the Moonlite parking lot, where we hook up with longtime Water Sentinels Aloma & Lee Dew. They're taking us on a Tour de Stench through four western Kentucky counties to observe the heavy concentration of factory farms, or CAFOs (Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations), that have moved into the region in force.

Several Sierra Club volunteers have come down from Louisville and other points east for the tour, including longtime Cumberland Chapter leader and clean water activist Hank Graddy, an attorney who has represented the Sierra Club in several landmark lawsuits to get factory farms to clean up their act.

We pile into the van and Lee pilots us out of town into the countryside as Aloma briefs us on the invasion of factory farming into western Kentucky and the environmental havoc it has wrought.

"CAFOs came swooping into Kentucky in the 1990s because it was a rural state with few environmental regulations, many unskilled workers, a high unemployment rate, and abundant grain and water," Aloma says. "They came with the promise of jobs and too-good-to-be-true profits. No one talked about the cost to the air, water, and soil, the nightmarish conditions in the plants, or the effect these operations would have on neighbors—not to mention the animals."

We slow down as we approach a series of long, low-slung silver sheds with a No Admittance sign on prominent display. "This big hog operation is within half a mile of the Green River," Lee tells us. "This berm we see along here is the sewage lagoon for this operation. All this land is fertilized with liquefied hog waste, which is collected in these lagoons and then sprayed on the fields, which drain via ditches and streams into the Green River. It's quite an adventure when you're driving down the road and they're spraying—all of a sudden you've got this brown film all over the windshield."

Below, a hog CAFO with sewage lagoons.

On the Road With the Water Sentinels: Part 4

We arrive at Whites Creek High School in the hilly, wooded outskirts of Nashville at 10am on a Wednesday morning. After being buzzed in by security, we are issued visitors passes with our photo on them and escorted through a series of freshly-painted cinder block hallways to the science classroom of Dr. Cliff Cockerham.

A Brooklyn native, educated at Cornell and Georgetown Universities, Cockerham—who is also a volunteer Water Sentinel with the Sierra Club—began teaching at Whites Creek in 2009 after the previously under-performing school completely overhauled its faculty and administration and reorganized under the Fresh Start Program.

"This is a school that for decades had a history of failure and downward-trending scores," he says. "Now it's headed in the opposite direction." Part of reorganizing the school was breaking it up into small learning communities. Cockerham teaches in the Academy of Public Service.

"We're creating a school where people's vision of what they want to do with their lives has something to do with serving the world and making it a better place," he says. "This is the only school in Nashville—maybe the state—where you can major in alternative energy. Having a science focus on environmental issues is a no-brainer. It's the No.1 way to make a difference because it's the No.1 problem we face. If we don't solve the global warming problem, nothing else matters."

The student body at White's Creek, part of the Nashville public school system, is more than 90 percent African American, and nearly all are considered "at-risk" youth. Many, Cockerham tells us, do not live with even one parent, let alone two.

Attired in a white lab coat with a clutch of pens and markers stuffed into his breast pocket, Cockerham is preparing his students for an environmental science exam two days away. He presides over the class like a drill sergeant, pacing the classroom, calling out rapid-fire questions and addressing the students using the appellation "Mr." or "Miss".

One student, apparently unprepared for class, bristles at Cockerham's upbraiding. Cockerham tells the young man if he isn't inclined to do the work he's free to leave, but he'll fail the class. The student pushes his chair back from the table and walks out of the room. Cockerham locks the door behind him and continues with his lesson.

Later, after class has let out, Cockerham lets down his guard and a different side from the no-nonsense taskmaster emerges. He explains that he instills such discipline in the classroom because many students have little in the way of a disciplinary figure in their lives outside of school. Occasionally his throat catches as he talks about his students.

"This is a hard place to teach," he admits, "but it's exciting to give people opportunities they wouldn't have had otherwise. You see kids who were headed for trouble ending up going to college instead. You can see kids moving from lack of direction to having some faith in themselves, some faith in the world, some faith in the idea that they can make a difference."