Desperate Measures in Desperate Times

In a recession that all people feel, those already under economic pressure become increasingly vulnerable to the race to find a dollar. The areas hardest hit by economic decline happen to be rich in one natural resource: natural gas deep underground. The correlation between natural gas woes and economic despair is close. When landmen came knocking, offering quick cash with seemingly little sacrifice, people were understandably eager to sign. The stories told from above about how gas drilling affects communities did not match up with what members of those same communities told us.

In her home in Dimock, Susquehanna County, Lynn Senick tells us over tea about the economic condition of her area. There isn’t much work for its 42,000 residents locally. Many people choose to make the 40 minute commute north to Binghamton, New York or the 45 minute southern commute to the city of Scranton. Work opportunities in Dimock are generally limited to schools, civil offices, or non-profit organizations. The quarry industry offers some seasonal jobs, but these are few and far between.

Bill Gere, a resident from just across the New York border tries to explain the economic background. “In Susquehanna County… agriculture as a way of life is diminishing. The stone quarrying business, although it seems profitable, it’s connected to the market and so it fluctuates. And it probably only benefits a small proportion of the people of the county.”

Susquehanna County rests in the northeastern corner of the state, with the New York border at its north. The population density averages 51 people per each of the county’s 800 square miles, and is gradually declining. The county is consistently rated in the top ten poorest counties in the state, and has been listed occasionally in the top three poorest.    

Dimock was no exception to the story in Susquehanna County when the landmen came knocking. Resident Vera Scroggins suspects the drilling companies were easily able to take advantage of the general poverty, saying “Dimock was the entry point [for drilling] in Susquehanna County. That’s where they paid the least for leases. They were like, $25 per acre... It was a good entry point for them. They could just do whatever they wanted, pretty easily.”

Kelley Williams, a college administrator working in Montgomery County, leased her property in Bradford County, just west of Susquehanna. She tells similar stories of the strain of too few jobs in a community. She says properties are mostly owned by retired people without jobs, or used as recreational getaways throughout the year, rather than primary residences.

The story from above:

“They told us all the leases were the same.”

Scroggins tells us, “They weren’t.”

Williams stirred up a bit of controversy in her town after receiving more per acre after holding out on signing a lease than did the neighbors who signed immediately upon the offer.

Cindy Peterman grew up in Sullivan County, south of Bradford County. Her family chose to lease out their 106 acres “on the ground floor, for a paltry $30 per acre.” She had no hopes of working the land, as it’s too rocky to farm. Her Bradford County neighbors held out when the initial offers were made, and are now being approached with offers closer to $1000 per acre.

Back in Susquehanna County, Vera explains “it’s up to $6000 per acre. They upped the ante. And so people sold themselves….. They don’t care because they want the money. People are saying, ‘come drill in my kitchen, and send me a check!’”

For people like Peterman, a lease seems like a surprise blessing. “I never thought that big rock mountain would ever be worth anything. God must have a sense of humor,” she says. Her area, too, has little economic opportunity. “There’s no jobs,” she says bluntly. There aren’t many people either. “My graduating class had 100 people. It’s mostly retired people up there. I think about going back up there, but there’s no jobs.” Presently, Peterman, who works as a nurse, lives in Bucks County. For now, drilling on her property is slated to start in this month, May, pending the construction of pipelines to transport it to a compressor station and to market.

The story from above:

People make informed decisions to lease their land.

The gas industry makes it difficult for landowners, already facing economic trouble, to say no. Ken Komoroski, a Cabot Oil and Gas Company representative, admits that the landmen do not give as much information to the potential leasers as they could. When asked at a public forum whether the landmen gave as much information as they could have, his simple response was “no.”

The natural gas industry, to promote its cause, has created the Marcellus Shale Coalition, a promotional mouthpiece whose propaganda can appear to residents as unbiased information. Through this coalition, the industry argues that they have been drilling in Pennsylvania for over a century, and that this experience is clear evidence of their competence. However, hydraulic fracturing is a completely different process than the standard gas drilling of the past: it involves more machinery, more chemicals, and more permits. Most importantly, it causes a new and entirely different set of repercussions.

In areas hit hard by natural gas woes, community organizations have formed to warn landowners of the dangers of leasing. In the end, neighbors protecting neighbors may be the light at the end of the tunnel.

The story from above:

Drilling here, now, supports America’s energy independence.

Barbara Jarmoska of the Responsible Drilling Alliance was accused of being unpatriotic by landmen and her neighbors for not supporting natural gas drilling. “The landmen told my neighbor, ‘I’m sorry you have to live next to someone who doesn’t support our troops or our county,’” she tells us.

Advocates of natural gas as the savior of domestic energy concerns should take into account that not all of this natural gas will be used domestically. A third of the natural gas produced in the United States is consumed elsewhere. The international market, primarily Norway and China, powers their factories and homes with natural gas from the United States.

The story from above:

Natural gas producing communities benefit from jobs, money, and property value.

Despite the promise of increased employment opportunities, most drill operations have retained the same employees from shale drilling in Texas. Workers and site managers with whom we talked all spoke in a heavy southern drawl. The site manager that Vera Scroggins met with was also Texan. The workers admitted that even their superiors in the company were from the deep south. Bill Gere, the New York resident, mentions that he saw an ad in the paper for jobs in the drilling industry, but does not know of a single person in the area employed by the local gas companies.

“The gas drilling business has benefited everyone financially because everyone’s leased their land. It’ll remain up to individuals to decide how they use their money, but I don’t see how it can hurt to have an equity base now,” Gere argues. But some people aren’t even seeing the money. One anonymous Susquehanna county residents interviewed has a lease with Cabot.

Drilling on his property began in November 2009, and royalties were promised 90 days after the drill went on-line. As of March 2010, he had not received any money from Cabot.

In general, property values in areas like Susquehanna County are rising, but everyday people aren’t seeing the benefits. Vicky Switzer, who sought to build her dream home in rural Pennsylvania and live out her retirement there. She and her husband invested their savings into building the home, but now have no access to clean water. They are struggling to decide whether their investment is still worth it. Regardless of their decision, they are trapped. “Property value is based on people wanting to buy the property. Who will buy our property? We’re on bottled water,” she says.

Demand for rental properties has also skyrocketed due to the workers brought from out of state. But countless long time residents have been forced out of their homes due to these enormous rent hikes, which they cannot afford. Even local hotels in the area have been completely booked, state Senator John Rafferty reports.

Desperate for dollars, the people of Dimock were trapped into a situation that changed their town, their bodies, and their lives. “We are no longer the village of Dimock. We’re the Dimock gas field, in the Marcellus Fairway. We’ve lost our identity as a community.” Vicky Switzer laments. “At some level it seems there’s kind of a warfare involved, because the corporations, I don’t think they care in the slightest for the rights of property owners and the way of life of the people whose land they’re using,” Gere says.

As Scroggins tells her story, she becomes audibly upset. Her voice takes on a tearful but sharp tone. “I don’t wanna be polite anymore… what’s happening is completely unacceptable!...When you see what’s happening, you move. Or you start screaming.”

Her anger is not isolated, and many in the Dimock community echo her sentiments. In areas hit hard by natural gas woes, community organizations form to combat the lies told from above, and to warn property owners of the dangers of leasing. In the end, neighbors looking out for neighbors may be the light at the end of the tunnel.

For more information about the environmental impacts of hydraulic fracturing for natural gas, see our article “The Water’s Gone Bad.”