Towns Like Pulaski

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On June 3, 1985, Duane Barry was asleep in bed when aliens descended upon his home and took him aboard their spacecraft. While there, they performed medical operations on him. But this was not the first time Duane had been abducted—as the aliens entered his bedroom, he cried, “Not again!” Years later, after escaping a psychiatric facility, Duane kidnapped FBI Agent Dana Scully, offering her to his alien captors to save himself from another abduction.1 This is a monumental moment in The X-Files, and it is fitting that the 1994 two-episode arc opens in my hometown, Pulaski, Virginia. The episodes’ themes of distrust and alienation mirror reality in Pulaski. Duane Barry personifies the vulnerability of a town caught in a web of conspiracies.

A former acid plant building in Pulaski, Virginia. All photos by the author.

Like many Appalachian small towns, Pulaski’s history is marked by industrial promises and corporate betrayals. Mining operations and manufacturing plants have come to town with the promise of prosperity but ultimately leave behind blighted properties and environmental contamination. The most notorious of these in Pulaski was the acid plant (formally called Allied Chemical) which produced sulfuric acid from 1904 to 1968. The plant was shrouded in mystery from its beginning. In 1905, a correspondent for the Richmond Times Dispatch wrote:

…[the acid plant] is hedged about as effectively as if guarded by a hundred-headed dragon, like the golden fleece of ancient mythology, or by an angel with a two-edged sword. Visitors are not admitted, and no member of the newspaper fraternity has ever, by hook or crook, succeeded in passing the sacred portals or extracting from its officials more than an atom of information concerning its workings and the amount of business it is doing.2

The newspaper author’s use of mythological imagery captured the sense of mystery surrounding the plant. Only one year after opening, the acid plant had people wondering what exactly went on behind its tightly closed doors.

The most peculiar element of the plant’s legacy is a slag (i.e., solid waste) byproduct created during sulfuric acid production. Locals call this slag “doodle dust” and have been concerned about its potential harm for decades.3 In 1937, Pulaski residents sued the General Chemical Company (the acid plant’s parent company) and argued that doodle dust stored outside the plant contaminated their farmland, lowering fertility rates. During the trial, acid plant representatives employed a strategy of denying everything. The plant foreman testified that they never sold doodle dust to other companies, but a 1926 receipt showed the plant did sell slag to Pulaski Iron Co.4 The plaintiffs saw doodle dust contamination with their own eyes, yet their concerns were dismissed as implausible. Even some of the defense witnesses (other local farmers) corroborated the plaintiffs’ testimonies under cross-examination. Despite this evidence, the court ruled in favor of the acid plant.5

Peak Creek in Pulaski, Virginia.

In 1983, seven years after the plant’s closure, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) investigated doodle dust contamination. The EPA took samples from Peak Creek (the main waterway in Pulaski), a slag pile, and other locations and found high levels of heavy metals. After capping the site and limiting access to it in the late 1980s to stop contamination, when the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service took new samples in 1999, the agency found that the land and water were still high in heavy metals. In 2000, researchers found no life other than heavy-metal resistant insects in the creek near the site.6 As of 2019, there are still high levels of heavy metals in town, especially in places where doodle dust piles were once stored.7

These circumstances undoubtedly contributed to Pulaski residents’ skepticism of industry and government. Today, these feelings are salient in community discussions regarding a mysterious, putrid odor that suffocates parts of the town. Some blame the decrepit sewage system; others argue it is chemical use and runoff at a nearby manufacturing plant. There is a tension for workers in manufacturing and mining towns – the industries that harm you and your land also feed your family. Working-class people must enter into an unspoken agreement with industries: you can build your factory here and pollute our land if you provide us with jobs and benefits. Meanwhile, the government is often dismissive or neglectful when it comes to holding companies accountable. The acid plant is a microcosm of this cycle of promise and betrayal.

Throughout his two episodes, Duane makes repeated, desperate pleas for honesty. His erratic behavior stems from a deep-seated desire to be heard. He doesn’t take hostages and kidnap Scully because he is a violent man; he does so because he is desperate to resolve years of pain. As a former FBI agent himself, Barry is familiar with the lengths the Bureau will take to pacify a suspect. Despite this, he hesitantly puts his trust in FBI Agent Fox Mulder, who ultimately betrays him like all the institutional agents before him.

Duane Barry is a symbol of collateral damage inflicted by powerful interests. His personal traumas reflect the broader socio-economic and environmental problems in our town. As industries obscure truths and governmental agencies barely intervene, the sense of alienation and skepticism depicted in Duane’s episodes are all too familiar. When Duane begs for honesty, he echoes thousands of people who demand answers from those that pollute their bodies and their land. Drenched in the eerie glow of extraterrestrial encounters and government conspiracies, Duane’s story is a poignant allegory, encapsulating the indomitable spirit needed to navigate the shadows of exploitative industries and a neglectful government in a mountain town like Pulaski.

The roads of Pulaski, Virginia.

 

  1. The X-Files, season 2, episode 5, “Duane Barry,” written and directed by Chris Carter, aired Oct. 14, 1994, on FOX (Century City, CA: Ten Thirteen Productions).
  2. Richmond Times Dispatch, October 22, 1905, 5. NewsBank: Access World News – Historical and Current.
  3. Kathleen Hohweiler, “The Doodle Dust Dilemma: Heavy Metals in Pulaski, VA.” ArcGIS StoryMaps, October 15, 2019, https://storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/7ec10798a2c84550a640cbc9aa5133f3.
  4. Roanoke Times, January 19, 1937, 4. NewsBank: Access World News Historical and Current; Hohweiler, “The Doodle Dust Dilemma,” 2019.
  5. Roanoke Times, January 22, 1937, 4. NewsBank: Access World News Historical and Current.
  6. Roanoke Times, September 23, 2002, 1. NewsBank: Access World News – Historical and Current.
  7. Hohweiler, “The Doodle Dust Dilemma,” 2019.
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Amanda Burroughs is an adjunct instructor in Sociology at Radford University and a PhD student in Sociology at Virginia Tech. She studies the political economy of small mountain towns, particularly in southwest Virginia. Her dissertation research is focused on the impacts of economic revitalization campaigns in Appalachia.

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