The tale of Doe Run: a firm grip on the corporate ankle.

• Author: Kruzen, Tom
• Position: Lead: The Poisoning Continues

Little did I know when I attended my first public meeting in 1986 in Winona, Missouri, concerning potential lead mining in the region, that I would still have my jaw firmly planted around the Doe Run Company's corporate ankle in 2006. In the mid-eighties we only knew that the area we lived in was incredibly beautiful and relatively pristine as far as air and water were concerned. We also knew, rudimentarily, that lead was not something healthful and it would not be good if it were spilled and slathered all over Missouri's Scenic River Region. The ensuing 20 years have filled in the blanks of our knowledge and taught us to pay attention to details.

Ninety-five percent of all lead mined in the United States comes from Missouri. Doe Run is a St. Louis-based mining company that had morphed from the historic St. Joe Lead Company in the mid-eighties. The new name joined the St. Joe Lead Co. with Homestake Mining of San Francisco.

Around that time, a rather large group of Ozark dwellers, mostly refugees from other less pristine areas of the US, gathered in West Plains, Missouri to air our concerns about Doe Run's plan to explore for lead deposits along Missouri's three National Scenic Rivers, the Current, the Jacks Fork and the Eleven Point Rivers. We knew next to nothing. Around 30 people eventually sifted down from the 150 in that room. One of the first leaders to emerge from that pared-down number of fledgling activists told us to prepare for a long fight if we decided to take on the world's largest integrated lead producer. She also told us that we needed to educate ourselves on all aspects of the problem from geology to government bureaucracies. A core group of us have done just that.

The first efforts were playing defense. The more we learned about our karst topography in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas, the more we knew just how great a threat lead mining would be. A vast area of sinkholes, losing streams and caves spoke to us as did a new-found ally, hydrologist Dr. Tom Aley. He told and showed us just how fragile karst was. At his Ozark Underground Laboratory, a sprawling two-mile registered national landmark, Tumbling Creek Cave, he demonstrated that whatever was on the surface of the ground would end up in the underground water system in as little as 15 minutes from the first rain drops of a storm.

Karst, decaying limestone perforated with holes much like a sponge, provided many astounding geologic features and as many hydrologic features such as Big Spring, North America's largest single-outlet spring, and Greer Spring, Missouri's second largest spring--and most wild. These and a myriad of tertiary world-class and minor springs provided much of the crystal clear water to the National Scenic Rivers (the Jacks Fork and Current) and the Wild and Scenic Eleven Point River. The springs, rivers and caves made this area beautiful, fragile and definitely worth saving from industrial processes such as mining. A couple of billion gallons of water leave the Ozarks through these outlets every day as well as dissolved limestone. Mining waste (tailings) ponds and transportation and smelting of lead ore would irrevocably change this special place.

Never having dealt with government bureaucracies before, our merry band quickly discovered its laws, rules and processes. The first battles were all fought within the minefields of the Forest Service and the US Department of Agriculture. We appealed the Forest Service's decision to let Doe Run explore. Hundreds of meetings, hearings and appeals delayed the onset of exploration until 1992. Doe Run did eventually sink 6 exploratory drill holes (the Forest Service had given permits for 20) but...