As a Longwall Coal Mine Grows Beneath an Alabama Town, Neighbors of an Explosion Victim Feel Undermined and Unheard

OAK GROVE, Ala.—Lily Spicer felt the energy of the explosion surge through her body. 

She was talking to her daughter on the phone when the boom came. Her family was accustomed to the occasional blasts that would sometimes shake their windows, she said. But this was different. 

“The only way I can describe it would be a direct hit with a lightning bolt, a massive explosion, and an earthquake, all in one,” she said. 

Spicer was the closest neighbor to 78-year-old W.M. Griffice, whose home atop an expanding underground mine exploded on March 8, leading to his death, seriously injuring his grandson and deeply rattling this rural community 20 miles outside Birmingham. 

Spicer said that since the explosion she and her family have lived in constant fear of dying themselves.

In the wake of the explosion, she and other residents have been left with serious concerns about the vast mine expanding under their homes, where bladed machines shear coal from expanses more than 1,000 feet wide and a mile long. But no one seems willing or able to answer their questions. Mine representatives and public officials alike have ignored citizens’ calls for transparency and accountability. 

An Inside Climate News review of regulatory documents confirmed that Griffice’s home was located over the mine’s expanding footprint, carved by the bladed shearers, which create rock ceilings, called “overburden,” that collapses behind the cutting tools, often causing significant subsidence in the land above.

The documents outline Crimson Grove Resources, LLC’s lengthy history of safety violations: Federal regulators have fined Crimson Oak Grove Resources 288 times for safety violations at the mine since the explosion, including 100 times for “significant and substantial” violations that the regulator concluded were “reasonably likely to result in a serious injury or illness.”

Still, state regulators have done little to quell residents’ concerns, and both federal and state regulators have made no serious effort to stop mining activity that residents say has devastated their community.

All this has left those in the area fearful and exhausted, according to more than a dozen residents interviewed by Inside Climate News, and it’s hard for them to see a way forward. Their community park had been closed due to mining activity. Residents are forced to drive miles out of town to get fuel after gas stations stopped pumping over safety and environmental concerns. Even a local church was closed for services until recently, its sanctuary undermined. But picking up their lives and leaving is something they never believed they’d have to do. For some, though, they see no other way. 

The Explosion Next Door

Even before the explosion that would leave her neighbor dead, Lily Spicer said that Crimson Oak Grove Resources, the company that operates the Oak Grove mine, was already wreaking havoc on her family’s day-to-day life. 

In February, just weeks before the explosion, Spicer was told that a contractor for the mining company, Langley Dirt Works, would be digging a trench and replacing the water line that supplied water to her home and, at the same time, running a water line to the Griffice home.

During the water installation work, Spicer said that Langley informed her of the fissures he was coming across in the ground near her home. 

“He was telling us about all the cracks he was finding in the ground while he was digging his trench and putting the waterline,” she said. What she wasn’t told, by mining officials or by Langley, was that methane had allegedly been found in the well supplying the Griffice home. 

The Griffice lawsuit alleges, and Langley Dirt Works’ court filings corroborate, that the contractor capped the family’s well. Coal mining safety experts say that capping wells over longwall mines can be dangerous, forcing escaping methane gas to find other paths to the surface, including cracks like those Spicer was being told about. 

Then came March 8.

Once the explosion rocked her home, Spicer jumped up and ran to the living room, where her husband had fallen asleep in a recliner. He was now lying on the ground, having slipped after being jolted awake by the sudden blast. 

About that time, Spicer saw what appeared to be a red light coming from outside. She looked out the windows of her home and saw it—-flames above the treeline just a stone’s throw away at the Griffice home. 

“It was like a fireball,” she said. “They were big flames, above the treetops, and it sounded like a jet engine, like rushing wind… It was absolutely terrifying.”

Within minutes, emergency vehicles began arriving on Griffis Road.

Spicer looked at her husband. 

“I think they’re all dead,” she told him. 

Soon, what Spicer considered Langley’s sloppy work on the water line, paired with a relatively narrow, country road with no turnaround became a clear issue for first responders, she said. 

“There’s this big, muddy, soft trench,” she said. “And the fire truck got stuck in it.”

Tanker trucks carrying water to help douse the fire had difficulty reaching the Griffice home, too, given the circumstances. 

“They couldn’t get down there because it was so tight and narrow, and they couldn’t go around them because the ground was all churned up from the waterline work. It was a real shit show.”

Spicer’s husband walked down toward the Griffice home, and when he returned minutes later, W.M.'s brother Tim walked with him. 

“He was backlit by the flames,” she said. “His body was smoking. His hair was standing on end.”

For a minute or so, Griffice said nothing. Then, he told his neighbors what he’d witnessed, Spicer said. 

Lawyers representing the Griffice family have declined ICN reporters access to Tim since the tragedy in March, citing the ongoing lawsuit against Crimson Oak Grove.

The explosion at his brother’s home just next door had knocked Tim Griffice out of his bed, he told them: “The next thing he knew, his nephew was screaming for him: ‘Help me! Help me!’”

Tim ran out onto the porch and Anthony Hill, Griffice’s grandson, was standing outside the home, bleeding and burned, he told Spicer.

“And they went back in together and got W.M. out,” Spicer said.

Soon after relaying the story to his neighbors, Tim stood up from where he’d been sitting on the porch, saying he needed to get back to the Griffice home, according to Spicer.

Spicer said she has no doubt in her mind that mining activity caused the explosion that would lead to Griffice’s death on April 3. She said she doesn’t think any reasonable person would. 

Since the March 8 explosion, federal and state regulators have made no serious effort to stop mining activity conducted by the operator, a subsidiary of American Consolidated Natural Resources. 

Spicer said that in the wake of the explosion, representatives of Crimson Oak Grove have been even less transparent than before. 

“Before the explosion, we emailed back and forth pretty regularly,” Spicer said of Kristie Baggett, a land agent for Crimson Oak Grove who handles much of the company’s interactions with residents. “I don’t think it was entirely honest communication, but at least I had something in writing. Now it’s a different story.” 

As the Oak Grove mine has continued to expand, and even before the expansion started, mine officials have held no public meetings to address community questions and concerns. When residents have reached out to mine officials with complaints, they’ve often been dismissed or ignored. Even when reaching out to regulators and public officials, residents said, they’ve felt unheard and undermined. 

A Veteran’s View

Sometimes Billy Morris feels like he’s in a war zone. 

An Army veteran battling post-traumatic stress disorder and other disabilities, Morris has had to simply leave his home on more than one occasion to escape the mining blasts that trigger painful memories. 

“The explosions would go off, and it would send me into an episode,” Morris said, his wife and kids sitting around the kitchen table, listening quietly. “It’s had a profound impact on me. Sometimes I have to just leave.”

Morris served for two decades as part of the 20th Special Forces Group of the Alabama National Guard in Birmingham, including multiple overseas combat deployments, before a car accident left him permanently injured. The accident, which occurred while Morris was on duty, also led to the death of his unborn child. The anxiety and grief that came with that loss overwhelmed Morris and led him to multiple suicide attempts. 

Eventually, Morris moved to rural Oak Grove from Trussville, a suburb of Birmingham. A development boom there had left Morris in a city where country had been. When the Bass Pro Shop moved in nearby, he said, he knew it was time to go. He found the home where he and his family now live in rural Jefferson County, and he was convinced he’d remain there for the rest of his life.

“When I moved out here, I said God is going to have to collect my soul from this house,” Morris said.

Now, though, the constant roar of mine exhaust fans have replaced the sound of crickets and cicadas in the woods around Morris’ home. 

“If I would’ve known the mine was expanding prior to moving here, I just would’ve found somewhere else,” he said. 

Last year, as Morris was learning how to cope with the underground blasts that would sometimes shake his home, the letter came. 

Sometime in 2025, the letter said, the expansion of the Oak Grove mine would reach the land under Morris’ home. If he had any questions, the letter from mine officials said, he could call the phone number listed on the form. 

“I called — no response,” Morris said earlier this month. “I called again and again. No response. I left a voicemail — nothing. It’s been a year, a year and a half now — still nothing. Zero communication from the mines whatsoever.”

Morris said that when the mine began its expansion, it should have called a community meeting to inform citizens of its plans and explain the process outlined in Alabama law regarding mining operations and resulting damages. 

But state law gives Morris little hope. 

“The laws in the State of Alabama…all favor the mining companies,” Morris said. 

Lawyers defending Oak Grove mine in the Griffice lawsuit, for example, have pointed to state law as a way of limiting their own liability for what happens on the surface.

If the mine was operating in “substantial compliance” with its permits, the company argued in court, state law would significantly limit any damages that could be sought by impacted residents. 

Under current law, prior to a mine expanding beneath their properties, homeowners are typically offered a settlement from mine officials for any potential damages around 50 percent of the home’s assessed value, according to interviews with residents. 

No homeowner interviewed by Inside Climate News was made aware of the risks of longwall mining reaching the land beneath their property before buying. Alabama is one of only a few “buyer beware” states where disclosure of “defects in the property being offered for sale” are not required by law. 

If a homeowner accepts a settlement offer from the mining operator, however, the related agreement often then requires disclosure of any damage to the property caused by mining, according to residents familiar with the agreements. This dynamic, they explained, leaves residents with a limited ability to sell the property at a price near what they paid. 

“It’s completely unethical and immoral for them to be offering people cents on the dollar for their property,” Morris said. A self-described far right wing conservative, Morris said that politicians on both sides of the aisle have ignored the situation in Oak Grove while the mining operator has wreaked havoc. 

“They have molded the laws in the State of Alabama in favor of the corporations,” he said. “The laws should favor the people of Alabama, not the corporations. That’s what I fought for.”

‘Underground Kudzu’ and A Gravedigger’s Tale

So far, nothing has significantly slowed the march of the Oak Grove mine. 

Michael Cole knows it well. 

For years, Cole and his family had worked toward purchasing a home in Oak Grove. It wasn’t an easy process. 

Day after day, Cole would drive to work at a cemetery in nearby Hueytown, where he digs graves, often working 12 hour shifts. Then he’d come home to the camper where he, his wife and two children were staying while making the necessary moves to become homeowners. 

“The intention was to find a forever home in a place we trusted—in a school district we wanted, and we weren’t going to settle until we found it,” he said. 

There were days, Cole said, when he didn’t eat so his family could. But in the end, they thought it had all been worth it. The Coles were able to find a home—a humble house on a private, off-the-beaten-path lot in Oak Grove. 

“It had everything we wanted,” Cole said. “It was in a good school district. It was big enough and secluded enough that my kids could go out in the yard anytime and play without much supervision.” 

In early June, though, a knock on his door changed everything. Now, Cole is faced with the reality of a mine creeping underground toward his home. 

“They told us they’re moving forward with expanding—that they’re going to be mining under our property, and that they’re expecting four to four-and-a-half feet of sinking,” he said. 

Like other property owners in the area, Cole was told he would receive an offer of half the appraised value of the home up front. If accepted, Cole would waive the mine operator of any liability after the mining took place. The company told him has until December, about six months, to decide whether to accept the offer.

The whole ordeal came as a shock to Cole, who said he had heard nothing of the mine expanding under residential areas until the knock on his door earlier this month. 

“It just doesn’t make sense to me,” Cole said. “Why would you mine under people’s homes when you know it’s potentially going to alter the rest of your life. It makes no sense—maybe because I’m a good person.” 

“I don’t want to blow up. I don’t want my kids to blow up.”

If he’d known about the potential of mine expansion under the property, he said he would’ve looked elsewhere for a place to settle down. Every day since mine officials came to deliver their offer, Cole said he’s been worried about the dangers that longwall mining could bring.

Since that day, Cole has joined a social media group called “Oak Grove Against Mining Mayhem” to learn more about the spread of what some residents have termed “underground kudzu.” Learning about the explosion at the Griffice home, Cole said, was a game-changer.

“I don’t want to blow up,” he said, looking out over the graveyard spread out before him. “I don’t want my kids to blow up.”

Working as a gravedigger has given Cole a new appreciation for life, he explained—an appreciation that now comes with a fear: “I don’t want to have to bury my own family.”

A Generational Trauma

Benny Walden has already lost something precious to Oak Grove mine.

In 1974, Walden’s father Harold was killed during the construction of the mine when a container of several tons of coal fell onto him from above. 

The mine, which was then operated by the U.S. Steel Corporation, battled the family in court, appealing a jury verdict of $2,000,000 in the family’s favor. But that wasn’t the end of the legal shenanigans, Walden said. 

“Another judge said ‘No, that’s too much money,’” he explained. “I think the judge was in the mine’s pockets.”

His father’s death was a loss that still impacts Walden, who was only 10 at the time. On a hot June day, Walden, now 60 and a retired gas worker, said his father’s death is one reason he plans to fight the mine’s current operators, who’ve notified Walden that his home will soon be undermined. 

“I don’t care if they think it’s their coal,” Walden said. “It’s my damn property.”

In much of Alabama, mineral rights to land have effectively been separated from surface ownership, setting up a situation where many homeowners only own a few inches of dirt under their houses. When mining companies like Crimson Oak Grove Resources then come in to conduct operations, land owners have little legal standing to fight back. 

But Walden said he’ll fight tooth and nail to prevent damage to his home. He’s already lost enough. 

Two of his neighbors, Randy Myrick and Daryl Mashburn, joined him in camping chairs outside his home to discuss the expanding mine. All three men are on the list of homeowners whose properties are located above coal seams Crimson Oak Grove plans to rip from the earth in the coming months and years. 

Myrick, who owns cattle, even received a warning from mine officials about his livestock. 

“They told me that there’s going to be cracks in the pasture,” he recalled. “They said to watch the cows and the pasture, and to let them know when the cracks come so they can fill it with sand so the cows don’t fall in.”

Mashburn said that when mine officials visited his home to inform him of their plans to undermine his property, they weren’t even aware of the gas pipelines that traverse the lot, an oversight he said left him stunned. 

“I just rolled off from her in my wheelchair,” he said.

All three men said the mine operator, paired with Alabama law, has left them with little power to fight back. Still, they believe public officials need to act swiftly to protect homeowners whose livelihoods may soon be undermined. 

“That mine ruined my life, and here they are again, wanting to do it one more time,” Walden said. “So I’m pissed off, and I have a right to be.”

The Fight to Be Heard

Just a few miles northwest of Walden’s place, a half dozen women of Oak Grove, ages 56 to 80, gathered on the front porch of a neighbor’s mobile home, wondering what will come of their hometown. 

“There’s a lot goin’ on that nobody really knows anything about,” one of the women said. “The mines won’t tell us nothin’.”

All of the women live in a section of Oak Grove where planned mining, if it is allowed to continue, will eventually reach.

“It will be a ghost town,” Lisa Franklin said. “And nobody seems to care.”

Franklin and the other women have lived in Oak Grove their whole lives. None want to leave the only place they’ve ever known, but they feel like in the coming years, they may not have a realistic choice. 

“I really don’t want to leave,” Franklin said. “I just wish they’d quit undermining us and leave us alone.”

“But they’re not going to listen to us poor folks,” another resident spoke up. “They could care less.”

All the while, tears filled Colt Brasher’s eyes. A camouflage Oak Grove athletics hat on his head, he said he understands that his family may have to leave one day. He’s slowly coming to terms with it. 

“It’s nice to be here,” he said. “But I would rather just go to be safe…I wouldn’t want to be blowed up. But I don’t want to leave my friends.”

Soon, Brasher left the porch to go ride his four-wheeler around Franklin’s yard. 

The women he left behind said it’s difficult to watch the children of Oak Grove wrestle with the realities of the changes that could come with an expanding mine. 

“It hurts to hear him be so scared,” one resident said of Brasher. “This place here is all this child has ever knew. It’s like us—this is all we’ve ever known. And for him to have to uproot, for us to have to uproot, because of a mine? It’s mind-blowing.”

A Prayer for Oak Grove

As the Oak Grove mine slowly expands its underground operations, residents have turned to social media to begin organizing opposition to what they see as the corporate exploitation of their community. Often, frustration and hopelessness rise to the surface. 

Recently, one woman in the group posted the only thing she thought may help: a prayer. 

“Heavenly Father, I humbly pray, if it is Your will, protect the people and this land from those who aim to harm it,” she wrote. “In your son’s name I pray, Amen.”

The responses rolled in one after the other.

Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen.