Return to Home PageIs the Adams Mine Alive?
The Canadian weekly Macleans(like Newsweek and Time) lays out the huge financial and political interests in resurrecting the Adams Mine Waste Management project for Toronto's solidwaste.The citizens are rallying to do all they can to bury the option. Thearticlementions "Queens Park" which is the location of the Ontario governmentbuildings. For further information go to Straightgoods.
Canada Down in the Dumps
An abandoned northern mine may yet be thedestination for Toronto's garbage
JOHN NICOL
Maclean's February 26, 2001
"I am writing tourge you and the city council of Toronto to reconsidersendingb this solid waste to Michigan, not because the citizens of Wayne Countydon't want it, but rather because it is the reasonable thing to do andthere are attractive, homegrown alternatives."
-- a Feb. 6 letter from Michigan Gov. JohnEngler urging Toronto Mayor Mel Lastman to reopen the controversial Adams Minedeal
It is the plan that, seemingly, refusestodie. Critics thought the death knell had finally sounded lastOctober, when last-minute negotiating disagreements killeda proposal to ship Toronto's garbage to an abandoned open-pitmine near the community of Kirkland Lake, 600 km north. Beset by controversy and lambasted by environmentalists who claimed the sitewas unsafe, the Adams Mine plan faded off the radar screen.The new solution to Toronto's garbage woes -- the city produces 4,100 tonnes of waste daily and its landfill in Keele Valley will be closed in 2002 -- lay at one end of Highway 401, in Michigan, which has become a receptacle for trash from Canada and surrounding states. Or so it seemed.
Even as behind-the-scenes manoeuvringhas continued to get the Adams Mine proposal back on the table,Michigan environmentalists weighed in. At a recent basketballgame in Michigan between the Toronto Raptors and the Detroit Pistons, a few dozen protesters held up placards saying the Raptors were welcome, but not Toronto's trash --up to 100 truckfuls of garbage a day delivered to two landfills near Detroit.
"Toronto has always had a very cleanimage, and Canada was regarded as beinga good deal more responsible about handling waste," Michigan environmentalist Rod Hill told Maclean's. "Now they seem like just anothercompany trying to save a buck -- taking the cheapest, least environmentally friendly way out."
Then, in his Feb. 6 letter, Michigan'sGov. Engler waded into the debate, suggesting to Toronto's Mayor Lastman that the city revert to its earlier plan to send its garbage to Kirkland Lake. It would not only help keep jobs in Ontario, said Engler, but shipping the trash by rail to the AdamsMine would be safer than clogging up highways with another 100 trucks per day -- which may prove to be the volume when Keele Valley closes. It was a position echoed by the mayors of cities, such as London, Kitchener and Cambridge, that line the 401.
And then there is Queen's Park. In December, a disappointed Ontario Premier Mike Harris, himself alongtime proponent of the Adams Mine deal, said he wouldhave preferred Toronto's garbage going north. Behind the scenes, he has been more strident -- and furious at Lastman for letting the deal die.
Harris, who is the MPP (provincial minister of parliament) for North Bay, 250 km south of Kirkland Lake, is a friend of North Bay road contractor and one-time ski racer Gordon McGuinty -- the main player in Rail Cycle North, the Adams Mine consortium. He is also friends with at least two of the investors, Peter Minogue and his wife, Barbara, who was his personal campaign manager.
Now, his Conservative government is reportedly considering taking responsibility for garbagedisposal away from Toronto -- raising the possibility of Queen's Park itself reopening the Adams Mine deal. And with Harris angry, the mayor may be paying a price: the city wanted provincial help with its current $305-million budget shortfall, but talks broke off lastweek, with Lastman saying he would have to freeze wages,sell off excess property and raise taxes.
For now, Toronto's garbage will keepgoing down Highway 401. But if the Adams Mine proposalis indeed rising from the dead, so are the previous questions that made it so controversial. Environmentalists say leachatefromthe site may poison nearby rivers, which feed into LakeTimiskaming, the Ottawa River and ultimately the St. Lawrence River.
Toronto, they say, would do better toemulate Edmonton and Halifax by diverting waste, eitherby composting, increased recycling or new technologies. Opponents of the deal also point to Harris's links to the main players, claiming his support is nothing more than political cronyism. And in economically depressed Kirkland Lake, the renewed debate may once again split the community of 9,900 between those who want development -- and those concerned that using the Adams Mine as a dump will cause irreparable damage to the Northern Ontario wilderness.
Norm Macdonald knows how ugly that kindof polarization can get. In 1992, he built his dream home on the shores of Round Lake, seven kilometres south ofthe Adams Mine. Macdonald loves the North; from his house, set in an idyllic lakefront perch beneath a stand of poplars, spruce and birch, hesees moose, deer and the odd bear.
And when the Adams Mine plan was firstraised in 1989, Macdonald, now a 58-year-old retiree,began to vocally oppose it. He had experience to guidehim. Macdonald had spent 32 years mining silver, copper and gold in Northern Ontario,and he knew the Adams Mine well. Fractured rock surrounds the site; water leaking in when the mine was operational was continually pumped out. Afterthe mine closed, the pit filled up.
But Macdonald and others say the siteleaks-- iron has since showed up in neighbouring wells.And last September, Macdonald got a tip that a secretleakage test using blue dye had been conducted at the site in 1998 -- which coincidedwith a neighbour's discovery of blue dye in his well water (McGuintydenies that any such test was ever done).
Macdonald told others in the anti-minemovement about the tip. Soon after, he says, he becamethe target of psychological warfare. A mysterious blackSUV would harass him. At times, Macdonald would see flashlights waving around his yard, then hear bangs on the walls. When he answered the phone, he heard either dead air -- or a voice threatening him and his family if hedidn'tstop investigating.
Macdonald's wife, Brenda, went for amedical appointment and to visit family in southern Ontario -- back home, things got so bad he told her to extend hertrip. Intruders broke into their home, stealing portraits and overturning drawers. In an implicit threat, they put a photo of the Macdonalds' four grandchildren on top of a box of tissues in the middle of the dining room table. On the box, they scribbled the phone number, supposedly secret, of the place where Brenda was secluded.
By Oct. 16, Brenda had returned home-- but the situation worsened even more. At dusk thatevening,while stepping out to his woodshed a few metresfrom his house, Macdonald says he saw a movement in the shadows. He was struck above the eye with a small, heavy object, leaving him with a gash inhis eyebrow. His assailant, Macdonald recalls, wore a military-style bodysuit that also covered most of his face.
At the time, Macdonald told Maclean'sduring an interview, "I don't carewhat they do to me, but leave my family alone. The threats we're getting -- they're sick."Shortly after, the garbage deal was dead -- and the harassment stopped."What hasreally taken the toll on the community is the uncertainty, and the constant gnawing and fighting back and forth," says Macdonald.
It may not be over -- Macdonald sayshe suffered a bout of nightmares this month when newsbroke that the deal might be revived."The onlyway it's going to go away," he says, "is if government keepsits nose out of it."But politics has been atthe heart of the Adams Mine story -- and may yet keepit alive.
In the early 1990s, when Toronto wassearching for a landfill for the 21st century, it foundfew neighbouring communities willing to sacrifice valuableland for a dump. Enter McGuinty. He started pitchingthe Adams Mine -- a man made crater 55 storeys deep, withthe bottom 100 meters below the water table -- as an ideal place for Toronto's garbage.
With the backing of then-Kirkland LakeMayor Joe Mavrinac, the lobbying began. Ontario's NDPgovernment set up the Interim Waste Authority so Torontocould find a site closer to home. But McGuinty was lining up other supporters.In the summer of 1991, he, Mavrinac, Peter Minogueand others met with new Tory Leader Harris at a Toronto restaurant. McGuinty characterizes it as a chance meeting. But, coincidentally, two members of a law firm in New Liskeard, 75 km south of the Adams Mine, were at the restaurant and say they overheard Harris committing himself "to dowhatever needs to be done to make this project happen."
Harris reiterated such a pledge on acable TV program just before he was elected premierin1995. Nine days later, he disbanded the Interim WasteAuthority. Harris said the province should not be actively involved in the city's search for a dump. But under his tenure, conditions for approving theAdams Mine site improved.
For one thing, the government changedthe Environmental Assessment Act, shortening -- some critics saygutting -- the review process. Then, during the two-weekenvironmental assessment hearing, the three-member panel debated only one issue: whether a computer-generated model of the proposed leachate-treatment system for the mine was viable.
In the end, the Adams Mine was approvedas a dump without ever having to produce test well results to determine if it leaked. Representing the mine consortium at the hearings was Toronto lawyer and Tory insider Robert Power, who had served as a member of the committees that recommended changes to theenvironmental assessment process.
Harris tried to hasten the process evenmore. Last summer, he said the province would close the Keele Valley dump in 2002, even though Toronto had only a capacitylimit, not a time limit, on the dump (according to thecity's estimates, it could have used the site until 2006).
And when the Adams Mine deal died, thepremier's interest did not. One lawyer who is close tohim told Maclean's Harris was "pissed" that the Toronto garbage was going to Michigan, "and particularly at Lastman forputting everyone in this position." Lastman had,in fact, been a strong proponent of the deal. But when theconsortium tried to negotiate a higher price in lieu of a contract clauseremoved by Toronto councillors because it could have resulted in future liability for the city, the mayor refused to budge.
Meanwhile, Harris's principal secretary,John Weir, worked on ways to revive the deal. Among the possibilities:changing laws on the exporting of garbage,and askingfor an environmental assessment of Toronto's Michigan deal.
Then came reports that the province was also investigating ways to buyout the Michigan contract andtake responsibility for garbage away from Toronto.McGuinty helped to drum up opposition from mayors along Highway 401,who appeared before Toronto council on Feb. 7 to complain about the increased traffic and potential dangers along the highway.
Harris's office also helped the Michigangovernor, a friend of the premier, with his letter to Lastman. A spokesman for Harris said the premier's office responded to requests from Engler for information, but made no attemptto influence the letter's content.
Last fall, when the ugliness in KirklandLake reached a crescendo, protesters temporarily blocked a railway near the Adams Mine and set up a camp next tothe tracks. The camp storehouse, nicknamed "Mel's Cafe," drew a diverse group of northerners of all ages together: anglophones, francophones, natives, former miners.
In Kirkland Lake itself, the two radiostations, the newspaper, severa businessmen and investorssupported the mine. Whenever the two factions crossedpaths, icy stares and angry debates ensued. It may yet happen again.
The coalition that fought the mine isgearing up for more action. Chief Carol McBride of the local Temiskaming First Nation said protesters are prepared to do whatever it takes to kill the proposal once and forall."We, as aboriginal people, have much more to lose," said McBride. "If the watershed was poisoned, we would lose grounds where we fish, hunt and gather natural medicines."
Among those contemplating a move is Macdonald.
The lingering bitterness of the Adams Mine battle has
proven too much. "I was born here, and it was always
my dream to live here," he says. "But our dream turned into a
nightmare." He knows what he wants: a view over water, with poplars,
spruceand birch rustling in the wind -- with the whiff
of garbage and politics along way away.
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