For the past day or two I have been thinking about Centralia, PA. Centralia is on the list of things with which I have become obsessed. Some one told me about it in college, and since then, the thought of it often flickers through my head when I’m writing, or thinking about Pennsylvania, or for no good reason at all. 
The short version of the story of Centralia is that it is an old little coal town in northeastern Pennsylvania, and in 1962 an abandoned mine caught fire. The fire spread to the coal that lies under the whole town; the fire has been burning under Centralia for almost forty-eight years, and it is predicted that it will continue to burn for another two-hundred and fifty years. After 1962, of course, people started getting sick and pieces of land and road started collapsing. Most residents were bought out by the government and relocated in the eighties. Pennsylvania claimed eminent domain in 1992 and condemned the town, although there are still five to ten people living there. In 2002, the USPS revoked Centralia’s zip code – 17927 – which to me, is a heartbreaking detail in the death of a town.
The story sticks with me, captivates me, and as I was sitting down to write this, I decided that at some point very soon I am going to drive to Centralia and take some pictures (maybe even dig out my old Pentax K1000 and use actual film). After all, I have been thinking about this town on and off for fifteen years or so, and it is only a little over two hours away, just up route 81.
Centralia appeals to me in a writerly way, both literally and metaphorically. Yesterday and this morning, I was thinking about it as a metaphor for desire, and not just of the bodily kind. Something like this:
A fire burns under the town, polluting the houses, driving out the good citizens, inviting condemnation. The only thing we can do is let it burn, let it collapse the city from below. Smoke rises from cracked streets. Is this a passageway into hell, or the moment at which nature takes over, transforms, dances a forest of brush where schools and churches once stood? A fire made of fuel can not be denied; one spark and the world is never the same.
For anyone interested, here is the wikipedia article on Centralia.
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I first read about Centralia in Bill Bryson’s book A Walk In The Woods, which I highly recommend, btw (short and funny as sh*t and the guy’s an excellent writer). RIP 17927; that IS a shame.
When I think of “let it burn” I think of the cleansing kind of fire that leads to new, fresh beginnings.
Too bad Centralia’s fire isn’t that kind. At least, not in this millennium. But maybe there’s a happy ending and Centralia is actually so far ahead of the rest of the country that it’ll be the Capitol of Eden in some distant future.